#so I know people can see how I feel apparently? but I don’t get the same in return

[hungermakesmonsters]

(It Is) What It Is

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Plot Summary : When Billy Russo realises that there is a certain class of wealthy clients who refuse to contract with Anvil because of his playboy reputation, he decides to alter their perception of him. You’re just a down on your luck PA, just trying to get by so when Billy offers to pay you to pretend to date him, you can’t refuse. But the last thing you expect is for Billy to pull you into his secret world of lust and debauchery.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut. There will be smutty themes throughout the story. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6.2k

A/N : 😭 I'm not ready for it to be over...

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN | CHAPTER TWENTY | CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE | CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR | CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE | CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Master List

Chapter Twenty-Seven

You slipped your fingers into his hair as you kissed him, loosely gripping the strands so that there was no doubt over what you wanted.

Him.

You wanted him. Wanted to be with him, wanted to hold him.

You’d spent the last few hours trying to ignore the tenderness between your thighs but, once you were in his arms again, it was all that you could think about. He let out a soft groan against your lips and all you wanted to do was press him back against the wall and sink to your knees for him.

But the sounds of the party around you quickly pulled you back to the moment, and you remembered where you were.

Later. Once you’d got him home and you’d finally had your talk, you would get on your knees for him and show him how much he meant to you.

Billy broke the kiss but lingered close, his forehead pressed to yours.

“We don’t have to stay,” he said. “We can go home right now.”

Had he read your mind or was he just thinking what you were thinking? 

You smiled and let your fingers slip from his hair and down to his shoulder. Your other arm remained firm around his waist, holding tight.

“We should stay a little while,” you said softly. “Just to see people.”

Honestly, it was the last thing you wanted, but it felt like it had been so long since you’d last done anything social. The last time had been the Hamptons and, well, you’d spent half of the time feeling like crap. And you still felt the adrenaline in your veins from being on stage, from calling Corrine out, and you wanted to get it all out before you went home with him.

“And, apparently, Catherine wants to see me,” you added.

Billy pulled a face but the expression vanished before you had the chance to figure it out. 

“Why?” He asked.

“I’m not sure. You know what she’s like,” you said, shrugging.

“Well, Karen and Frank want to see you first.”

His hand took hold of yours and, before you could even think to answer, he was pulling you through the party towards the bar and your friends.

Karen’s face lit up when you saw her, and it put to bed any lingering notion that she might be upset with you and Billy for deceiving her. Even Frank managed a smile.

“You were amazing,” Karen said, handing you a champagne glass.

“Thanks, I thought I was going to have a panic attack up there,” you said, earning a squeeze from Billy’s hand. “I still feel like my heart’s going a mile a minute.”

“You looked good up there,” Frank added.

Billy leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek. “Told you you’d be fine.”

“I think this calls for a toast,” Karen said, handing Billy a glass. “To facing fears with friends.”

You felt your cheeks heat a fraction, not with embarrassment but with a strange sense of fondness. You’d never really had this; friends, people who wanted to support you, people who cared.

You brought up your glasses, clinking them together, then you took a long drink.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the night?” Frank asked.

“Dancing, drinking, having fun,” Karen said, shooting you a grin.

“Lots of dancing,” you agreed. 

“Better make sure Bill doesn’t stand on your feet in those nice shoes,” Frank said.

“Fuck off, Frankie,” Billy remarked.

You gave his hand a squeeze and shook your head. “He’s actually a really good dancer. He does get a little handsy though...”

“I’ll bet he does,” said Frank.

You weren’t sure how to address the elephant in the room with either Frank or Karen, especially not with Billy at your side. They both knew that it wasn’t supposed to be real but - well, you weren’t even sure that it wasn’t real anymore. After the morning in his bed, finally having sex, and the talk he’d promised you later, it felt like everything had changed.

You talked amongst yourselves and you quickly noticed how strange it was, how easily you could talk to them and fit into their little group now. It felt like you were finally starting to find your place in life, finally finding people you could trust and be vulnerable with, and it was all because of Billy, because he had shown you that you didn’t have to always be alone.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed Catherine and Leah and gave them both a wave, but your attention was quickly pulled back to Billy.

“Dance with me?” He said, giving a tug on your hand that left no room for discussion.

Of course, you let him pull you away to the dancefloor and smiled as his arms slipped around your waist. You placed your hands on his shoulders and let him lead.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“I just...” he hesitated and a strange expression appeared on his face, “I wanted to have you to myself for a little while.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, you pressed your hand to his cheek, wanting to soothe whatever he was struggling with. Was he questioning what had happened between you that morning? Was he regretting it? Did he think you regretted it?

“You can have me to yourself as much as you want whenever you want,” you said, hoping he understood the deeper meaning of your words, hoping that he understood that you loved him.

The last thing you expected was for him to frown, to look at you like he had the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. He took your hand from his cheek and pressed it to his chest, right above his heart, letting you feel the way it was beating. The rattle and thump beneath his ribs was enough to make your own heart stutter.

“Billy...” you said softly, not sure what to say.

There were a million different questions in your mind but you had no idea where to start.

His chest rose as he took a deep breath. Then he forced a smile that did little to settle the worry that was brewing inside of you.

“It’s okay, little dove. We’ll talk about everything tonight,” he said, the arm around your waist pulling you closer. “Let’s just enjoy the moment.”

You managed a nod as he pulled you against him, resting your head on his shoulder and slowly dancing in time with the music. From time to time, you’d catch a flash of lightning through the windows or hear the distant boom of thunder as the rain outside became a storm.

A few songs passed before you lifted your head again. “I need to go to the bathroom. Why don’t you find Karen and Frank and get another drink.”

Billy seemed reluctant to let you go, but he slowly took a step back. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

“I think someone might notice,” you said, smiling even as your cheeks warmed at the thought. “Besides, we’ve got all night...”

“Right,” he agreed. “Another glass of champagne?”

You nodded and turned, making your way to the bathroom. It was a challenge not to rush as you walked away from him, not wanting to spend more time than necessary away from him. All the while you found yourself wondering what was going on with him and why he was acting so clingy all of a sudden.

It took less than five minutes before you were heading back towards the bar where you could see Billy drinking with Frank and Karen. His eyes caught yours and he started to smile, but then his expression changed to something more like a grimace. You didn’t realise why until Catherine stepped out in front of you.

“There you are,” she said with a smile, “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

“Oh, no - sorry, I mean to come say hi, but things have been hectic, and Billy -”

“Yes, I suppose he wants to keep you near after everything,” she said, giving a knowing nod of her head. “I think your illness gave him quite a scare.”

“Yeah. I think I probably should have been more honest with him about a few things,” you said.

“Nevermind, you’ve got the rest of your lives together to figure out all of that,” said Catherine. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the good news.”

Good news?

You tried desperately to figure out what she meant, not wanting to ask in case it made you seem like you were out of the loop. You hadn’t seen Catherine since the hospital when -

“Do you mean what I said at the hospital?” You asked. “When I said Billy was my fiance, because -”

“Oh, no. William explained that to us. I mean the contract.”

“What contract?”

“Our new contract with Anvil to oversee security in our hotels, of course.”

“Oh,” you managed, feeling like the floor was crumbling beneath your feet. “Of course. That contract.”

“Obviously, it would have been nice to celebrate it straight away but you were still bedridden at the time, but now you’re better, I insist on taking you and William out for dinner,” Catherine continued.

Somehow you managed to maintain a believable smile despite the fact that your whole world was falling apart around you.

He’d gotten the contract with VDK, and he hadn’t told you.

You’d still been in bed sick, so it had been well over a week.

Was that why he was acting strange? Did he know it was all going to come out tonight?

Was that why he’d slept with you? Had he seen it as his last chance to fuck you before he ended your arrangement?

Catherine was still talking, but all you could hear was the ringing in your ears as your mind raced from one terrible thought to the next. You kept nodding and she kept smiling, oblivious to your turmoil.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to William. I need to go check in with Faye and make sure everything is running smoothly,” she said.

You nodded but before she walked away, you found yourself speaking, words seemingly coming from nowhere. “You should be proud of her, she’s been working really hard.”

Catherine’s smile widened at that.

And, as she left you alone, your eyes found Billy’s again. You weren’t sure what the look on his face was, but you didn’t want to think about it. You just turned and walked away.

You weren’t sure where you were going but when you found a door leading outside, onto a large balcony area, you didn’t even hesitate before stepping out into the storm. Cold wind and rain assaulted you the second you were outside but you kept going, kept moving until you reached the edge of the balcony.

Your chest ached and you struggled to fight back a sob.

He’d lied to you.

You loved him and he’d lied.

Freezing rain began to soak through your dress but you hardly noticed over the aching in your chest. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, like all the oxygen had been stolen away from you. 

“Little dove?” You startled at the sudden sound of his voice behind you, barely registering the concern in his voice. “What are you doing out here? You’re going to get cold.”

The rain on your face concealed your tears as you turned, but there was no hiding your pain from him.

“You got the contract with VDK.” A tremor ran through your voice. “You got the contract last week.”

He didn’t say anything but he did manage a reluctant nod.

“You lied to me.”

“I never lied,” he said.

“You kept it from me.”

“I wanted to tell you, I just -”

“Is that what this morning was really about? You wanted to fuck me before I found out that our arrangement was over?” You demanded, pulling your arms tight across your chest, trying to keep yourself from shaking.

“No, that’s not -” he struggled to find the words, “- I wanted to tell you, but I was scared you’d leave. I was scared that you’d want to end things.”

He took a small step forward but stopped the moment he noticed you angling yourself away from him.

“I just wanted more time to figure it out,” he continued, his voice breaking. “I thought that if I had more time I could show you how I feel and maybe convince you to stay, even if it was only for a little while longer...”

(Just a little while longer? So, not forever. He didn’t want you forever.)

“I can’t do this anymore.” It came out as a gasping sob and you pressed your hand to your mouth to keep more from spilling out.

Billy shattered in front of you, his reaction to your words was so visceral, so obvious, that you almost regretted them.

“Don’t say that. Please, don’t -” he tried, but you didn’t want to hear it.

“It hurts too much when you don’t feel what I do.”

“But I do,” he said, pleading with you to just listen to him. “That’s what I wanted to tell you - it’s what I’ve wanted to tell you for weeks. I know what I want. You. I want you, little dove.”

Weeks?

The night before the Hamptons... he’d tried to tell you that he wanted you and you hadn’t listened. 

You shook your head.

“But the arrangement, the contract... how can we -”

“I’ll give it all up,” he said. “I’ll go in there and tell everyone the truth if that’s what you need me to do.”

You’d never heard him speak with such raw conviction before, and you knew he was breaking just as much as you were.

“But it would ruin Anvil’s reputation, it would ruin you,” you said, your hand trying to scrub the rain and tears from your cheeks. 

“I don’t care. None of it matters if I don’t get to have you. I - I love you.”

Your heart skipped in your chest and you shook your head. How could Billy Russo love you?

“You can’t ruin your life for me,” you told him, pulling your arms tighter around you, trying in vain to ward off the cold that was eager to settle into your bones.

“You’re my life,” he answered. “You’re everything to me.”

This time when he stepped forward, you didn’t shrink back. You just watched, confused as he dropped to his knees in front of you, fumbling with his jacket pocket. The flickering lights of the balcony made it hard to see, but the moment lightning streaked across the sky, you realised what was in his hand.

A red Cartier ring box.

He opened it to reveal an elegant but understated engagement ring; three small diamonds set on a thin band of white gold. 

“I got this at the auction. I - I’ve been carrying it around for weeks, wanting to...” his voice broke and he forced an awkward breath, fighting off tears of his own. “I know I always fuck up and there’s something wrong with me... but, please, don’t ask me to go back to a life without you.”

Your heart raced as the penny finally dropped.

He was proposing to you.

Only, he wasn’t down on one knee asking. He was on both knees, begging you to love him, to choose him. After a lifetime of being left and abandoned, Billy thought that he had to beg for your love.

But, no - he’d never have to beg for that.

It all fell into place; the way Faye had shown you the Cartier collection at the auction, already knowing Billy had bid on a ring; Catherine’s surprise when she’d asked about your auction winnings and you hadn’t mentioned a ring; even Corrine’s shitty comment about a Cartier ring.

He wanted to marry you, and he’d had the ring for weeks.

(You could have had this conversation weeks ago, if you’d only let him speak.)

Your knees buckled and you ended up on the floor in front of him. Your trembling hands framed his face and you stared into his deep, dark eyes, trying to understand what was happening.

“Everything kept going wrong,” he said quietly. “I keep fucking everything up.”

“No. No, you don’t.”

“I never even thought I was capable of love,” he sniffed awkwardly. “I knew I wanted to keep you ever since that morning at Sophie’s store, but I thought the feeling would go away. I thought I’d be able to let you go. But when you got sick, I - I realised how much I love you and I’ve never been more scared.”

Lightning lit the sky again and your tears continued to fall.

“You love me?” You asked, and he nodded. 

He was still gripping the ring box so tightly, the unasked question seeming to get louder with every passing second.

“I don’t want to go back to a life without you either,” you managed to say, choking back another sob. “I love you too, Billy. I love you so much.”

When he looked at you like he didn’t believe you, or like he’d somehow misheard you, you closed the distance and pressed your lips to his. You kissed him fiercely, putting every ounce of your love into it, making sure there were no doubts in his mind. His arms pulled around you, and you felt the ring box against your back.

“I love you,” he muttered against your lips. “Please... marry me?”

“Yes.” You didn’t even pause to take a breath.

“Yes?”

You nodded and were quickly pulled back into another fiery kiss that lasted until a boom of thunder sounded overhead and brought you both crashing back down to reality.

“Let’s go home,” he said and, again, you nodded.

Before he got to his feet, he carefully slid the engagement ring onto your finger. It was a perfect fit - you weren’t sure how you’d manage it but, at that moment, you didn’t much care. He helped you to your feet and wrapped a possessive arm around you.

You wiped away your tears as he led you back towards the door. Not that it did much to help your overall appearance. The both of you looked like drowned rats, dripping all over the floor the moment you were back inside.

All it took was one person to notice and, soon enough, almost everyone was looking at you. Your cheeks heated and you pressed closer into Billy’s side, hating the attention.

“Whatever happened?” Catherine’s voice cut through the music and the muttering as she made her way towards you.

Your lips parted, but no words would come - how were you supposed to explain everything that had happened over the last ten minutes? 

“She said yes,” Billy spoke up, taking control of the situation. He lifted your left hand so everyone could see the ring. “We’re getting married!”

A surprised cheer went up around the room and, thankfully, for most people it was enough to satisfy their curiosity.

“I know I told you to propose somewhere romantic, but I didn’t quite mean in the middle of a thunder storm,” Catherine said, tutting as she took your hand from Billy to inspect the ring. She gave you a knowing smile. “I told you men like William talk with actions rather than words.”

Before you knew it the rest of the Van Der Koy’s were there to offer their congratulations, and so were Frank and Karen. It was overwhelming, and you were so glad that Billy was able to step up and answer all of their questions.

After everything that had already happened that day, it quickly started to feel like too much, and all you wanted to do was go home with Billy.

Eventually, you managed to find your voice and plucked up the courage to address Faye and Catherine. “Thank you so much for inviting us, we’ve had a lovely time, but I think we’d like to go home and celebrate now.”

No one questioned it or tried to convince you to stay (probably because you were both still dripping on the floor).

You rushed through goodbyes and made promises to see people soon. It felt like it took forever to get outside and, the moment you did, your arms wrapped around Billy's waist. You held him tight, not caring that his jacket and shirt were wet and close as you pressed your face to his chest.

“You okay?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, through your wet hair.

“I don’t know,” you murmured. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“It’s real, little dove,” he said without a hint of uncertainty. “My ring is on your finger, that means you’re mine now.”

The calm confidence in his voice had you relaxing, letting Billy take control of everything. Not because it was what he needed, but because you needed it. You didn’t have to worry or overthink when Billy was in control, you just held him tight and let him look after you.

“I’m yours,” you agreed. “And you’re mine.”

“Always, little dove.”

A minute later, you were bundled into the back of his car, and pulled against Billy’s side for warmth. If the driver had any thoughts about you and Billy soaking the backseat, he kept them to himself and quickly got you back to the penthouse.

Neither of you spoke until you were home, but in the elevator, your hand in his, you noticed Billy’s thumb brushing back and forth over the three diamonds set in the ring. You wondered if he needed to be reminded that it was real.

He turned as you stepped into the penthouse, taking your face in his hands. You got lost in his eyes for a few seconds, thinking about the life you were going to have together now that you’d both finally confessed your feelings.

“You’re all wet, little dove,” he said.

“You have that effect on me,” you answered, flashing a shy but playful smile.

“Do I?” 

Billy grinned as you nodded, his eyes dropping from yours to take in the soggy, sorry state of you. He must have been considering his options because, a second later, he shook his head and took your hand, pulling you through the penthouse to his bathroom. You half-expected him to run a bath but, instead, he reached into the shower and turned it on.

“Let’s get you warmed up,” he said as he reached behind you and started to unzip your dress. “I don’t want you getting sick again.”

You didn’t say anything, you just turned your attention to undressing him while he relieved you of your clothes. Heat quickly started to spread through your body as he unwrapped you like a present and committed every inch of exposed skin to memory. As soon as you were both naked, he pulled you into the shower and closed the door behind you.

Billy pulled you against him and you rested your head against his chest, the heat of the water quickly banishing the cold from your bones. You let out a contented sigh.

“Are you warm enough?” He asked in that soft voice that always betrayed his concern.

“You don’t have to worry about -”

“I do,” he interrupted. “You’re going to be my wife and I’m going to spend the rest of my life worrying about you.”

“Fine,” you retorted just as quickly. “But it goes both ways. If this is real now, then I get to worry about you too.”

He tensed and your arms tightened around his waist.

“I mean it,” you continued. “I want to be able to take care of you like you deserve, Billy. We’re in this together, and that means we take care of each other.”

“If that’s what you want,” he said, pulling back just a fraction so he could see your face, and he gave you one of those rare smiles that you loved so much.

“It is,” you told him, lifting your head and kissing him softly. “I want everything, Billy. Every single part of you.”

And, you decided, you were going to show him.

You kissed him again, this time lingering against his lips while your hands ran over the bare expanse of his chest, touching him in a way you’d never allowed yourself to before, with love and tenderness. You wanted him to know how much you loved him, and you knew he’d understand this best.

Your lips finally left his and you started to press kisses over each and every scar you could find on his torso, starting with the oldest; the one on his shoulder. His breath caught, but you didn’t stop or hesitate. From his shoulder you moved across his chest and down, dropping to your knees to kiss the faded mark on his abs, then the one at his hip. The whole time, Billy remained frozen, just watching you as you made your silent promises to care for him and love him.

When you stopped, you looked up at him from your place on your knees.

He cupped your cheek, tenderly caressing your skin with his thumb as water continued to cascade over both of you. When you remained on your knees, he realised what you were doing, what you were offering.

His thumb pressed against your lower lip and you saw his cock twitch in the periphery of your vision.

“Do you want to suck my cock, little dove?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Ask nicely.”

Your heart stuttered as he slipped into his dominant persona, and heat started to pool between your thighs.

You felt... free. Free to play his games, free to give yourself over to him completely. And, most importantly, free to love him without fear of rejection. 

Billy loved you, and you wanted to give him everything.

Your eyelashes fluttered in what you hoped was a seductive way.

“Please, Mr Russo, can I suck your cock?” You asked in a low, breathy voice, unashamed of betraying your growing arousal.

Something flickered across his face - surprise? No, thrill - at the question. Or, more likely, at you calling him that. He liked it. And you were going to use that to your advantage.

“How could I refuse when you asked so nicely?” He managed to keep his confident tone, even though his eyes betrayed his fraying control. Gripping his cock, he gave a couple of lazy strokes before pressing the tip to your lips. “Open up, little dove.”

Your lips parted and eagerly wrapped around him, tongue slipping over the tip before you started to take him deeper. This time there was no chance of interruptions and you were going to enjoy it. You were going to learn Billy the way that he had learned you.

You wrapped a hand around the base of him and chased every bob of your head with your fingers. That alone was enough to make Billy groan and swear, his fingers tangling in your wet hair. One day you wanted to let him take complete control, you wanted to let him use your mouth however he wanted. But tonight wasn’t the night for that.

Sinking lower, you gagged softly as he hit the back of your throat, and pulled back a fraction. The fingers in your hair loosened instantly, but you settled his worries when you looked up at him through your lashes and sank back down, this time avoiding the discomfort.

“You don’t -” he tried to say but ended up trailing off into a desperate moan as you swallowed the last few inches of him.

His fingers twitched in your hair when you paused, holding yourself in place for a few seconds. Then you pulled back, letting him fall from your lips as you gasped for breath. As you smiled up at him, proud of yourself, your hand continued to stroke him.

“Marry me?” He asked, breathless.

You laughed. “I already said yes.”

“Then marry me twice.”

You rolled your eyes and slipped him between your lips again, this time taking things a little faster, letting his pleasure build.

All you got was a groan of warning before he started to come. Your lips stilled but your hand kept going, making sure to wring every drop of pleasure from him, until you made him so sensitive that he squirmed away from you.

He pulled you to your feet and kissed you deeply, not caring about the taste he’d left in your mouth.

As he pulled you against him and tenderly started to wash your body, you found yourself slowly slipping into the wonderful, hazy static that you always found when he took care of you. He kissed your neck as he slowly and meticulously washed every inch of you, and you let him. You allowed yourself to be completely vulnerable to him, leaning back against his chest as he turned you and ran his soapy hands up your stomach and over your breasts.

It felt like a weight had been lifted from you, like you could finally breathe.

You were his and he loved you.

He was yours and you loved him.

When he was certain you were clean and warm, he turned off the water and lifted you out of the shower. He sat you on the counter and dried you, even going as far as to wrap your hair in a towel, then he put you in his fluffy bathrobe.

He dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his waist before carrying you to bed, putting you down and laying beside you. 

Your fingers slipped into his still-damp hair, a fond smile on your lips as you just stared at the beautiful man beside you. But something from earlier prickled in the back of your mind, pulling you out of the carefree static.

“Billy, what you said earlier... about there being something wrong with you...” you let the unasked question hang in the air, but continued when he didn’t try to explain or justify it. “Don’t ever say that to me again. There’s nothing wrong with you, and I don’t want you to ever think that there is, okay?”

He stayed silent.

“Okay?” You repeated with more force than even you expected.

“Okay.”

“Good,” you said. “I love you. That should be all the proof you need that there’s nothing wrong with you.”

He gave a nod but didn’t say anything. The pair of you fell back into a lazy sort of silence, just enjoying each other’s company.

“When did you know?” He asked after a few minutes. “When did you start loving me?”

You considered the question, trying to remember when your feelings had turned from that strange feeling of like to one of love. 

“I knew for certain that day on the beach,” you said with a fond smile. “When you carried me into the ocean, I realised that I loved you and - and how much it’d hurt if I ever lost you.”

Billy reached for you, his thumb tenderly brushing your cheek as a couple of tears escaped you.

“But, I think it really started that night you took me for Thai food - the first time you asked me to move in. At the end of the night, when you told me we should practice kissing and -”

He closed the distance between you in an instant, his lips finding yours and kissing you with the same eager intensity that he had that night. You pulled him closer, urging him towards you until the weight of his body was resting over yours. Little moans spilled from your mouth into his, muffled by the press of his tongue on yours.

By the time the kiss broke, you were breathless.

His eyes were teeming with emotion when he looked at you. 

“I love kissing you. Even at the start, I’d come up with reasons to kiss you just because I wanted to,” he confessed, his lips brushing against yours with every word. “I almost lost my mind not being able to kiss you when you were submitting to me.” 

You let out a soft laugh, then a sigh. “I thought I could stop myself from falling for you if I didn’t let you kiss me like that...”

“You were protecting yourself,” he said and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You made me work to win you.”

“Hmm, in that case, maybe I should make you work a little harder,” you said playfully.

Without warning you clumsily pulled at the towel around his waist.

“Have you always been this insatiable or have I created a monster?” He asked, smiling and looking happier than you’d ever seen him.

“Why? Are you having second thoughts already?”

He pulled open your robe as you flung his towel across the room.

“Never,” he answered, that familiar, dominant tone sending a bolt of arousal through your body. “You’re mine now, little dove. And I’m never letting you go.”

Your legs parted, letting him settle between your thighs. A moan tore from you the moment he pressed down and started to grind the hard length of his cock against you, immediately rendering you wet and needy beneath him.

“I’m yours,” you agreed. “I’ll always be yours.”

His smile was almost enough to distract from the way he positioned your arms above your head and managed to grip both of your wrists with just one hand, pinning you beneath him. He kissed you again and you eagerly parted your lips for his tongue, already feeling the static buzzing in your head again. Your hips moved against his, desperate for more friction, desperate for more of everything.

But something made him pause. He looked down at you and you understood immediately; he was thinking about last night, about how you’d become overwhelmed while restrained.

“Green light, Mr Russo,” you said, hoping to squash his concerns.

A rumble sounded from the back of his throat and his grip on your wrists tightened.

“If you keep calling me that, it’s going to make working together very difficult,” he said.

“Sorry, Mr Russo,” you said, barely holding back a laugh. “But if I have to live with the memory of you bending me over your desk every time I -”

He silenced you with another kiss.

More needy noises started to escape you when his hand began to move down your body, his fingertips tracing every dip and curve. He paused on your breast for a moment, fingers teasing your nipple into a stiff peak before continuing downwards. When his hands slipped between your bodies, you readied yourself to feel his fingers inside of you again, quickly pushing you towards orgasm.

Instead, he took hold of his cock, and you moaned his name against his lips as he ran the tip through your folds. Clearly your playfulness had destroyed his patience. Good, you were equally impatient to feel him inside of you, to have him completely again.

“You’re so wet,” he groaned against your lips.

You didn’t have the chance to answer. His cock notched inside you and stole your breath. Your back bowed beneath him, your body anchored by his tight grip on your wrists. 

Billy took his time, sinking into you slowly just as he had the first time, and this time you knew for certain that it was because he was just as affected as you were. He stilled when he hilted, his free hand gripping your hip to keep you from moving beneath him and making him come too soon.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered.

“So are you,” you answered just as softly. “You feel so good, Billy.” 

He waited a few moments before starting to move, drawing back his hips, but keeping you completely immobilised beneath him. You didn’t struggle, didn’t pull against his hold on you to try and take more, you gave yourself over to him completely, trusting him to make it good for you.

And Billy didn’t disappoint. He started with slow, deep thrusts, letting you feel every inch of him, and just that was enough to have you coming and crying out his name. Your body trembled and shuddered as you shattered, and you found yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the haze.

“I love you,” he groaned, his hips picking up speed.

“Say it again,” you pleaded.

And he did, over and over. Punctuating each declaration with a thrust of his hips.

You came again, and there was no telling if it was because of the way he was fucking you or the words falling from his lips.

“I love you,” he said, again and again. “You’re being so good for me.”

It was all you wanted; to be loved by him, to be good for him. Pleasure filled your body and you felt like you might burst beneath him.

When his thrusts became stuttered and awkward, he let go of your hands, letting you slip your fingers into his hair and pull him to your lips again. You kissed him deeply as he came inside you, and you held him tight as you both came down from your highs.

“I love you,” he said, breathless and exhausted.

“I love you too,” you said, already half asleep beneath him, exhausted but happier than you’d ever been. “I can’t wait for tomorrow... and the day after... and every day I get to spend with you...”

A/N : 😭 😭 I can't believe it's finally over (well, okay, I can, I just don't want to). There is going to be an epilogue to tie up a few loose ends and give these two a proper send off, but I hope that you all like this ending as much as I enjoyed writing it. I wanted some last minute drama to finally get them both to confess their feelings and I hope the pay-off was worth it. I'll let you know next week what I'm planning on doing after wrapping this series up (I've got a few short-term ideas but I will also be doing another poll at some point with the remaining three fic idea from the last poll)

As always I love and appreciate every like/comment/reblog and keyboard smash of love. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you all have a great weekend!

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

Tag list :

@oliviaewl @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @benbarnesprettygurl @dreadfulxives18

@danzer8705 @snowkestrel @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @intothesoul @uniquehijo

@anitaxl @solacedragonx @justiceforquentin @ladyblacky @marvelsunlight

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@cosmoacrosscosmos @wordacadabra @rocxpxtalc @vintageangel08 @bartonsparrow25

[friendly-rabid-toad]

Let Me In || Ona Batlle

Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend is sick and doesn't want to be taken care of, but you're there for her regardless.

Warnings: I think I swore at some point in this, a wee bit o' angst & a wee bit o' fluff

Word count: 1.8k words

A/N: Bringing this one back as well :) I'm planning on reposting some more in between new fics. I'm working on an Alessia fic that's taking forever, but I also worked 80 hours last week, got cheated on, and fell down a flight of stairs so we're going to stick to reposting already written things for now!

Believe it or not, knocking at the front door of your girlfriend of three months’ like a mad person had not been in your plans for the day. You thought you were getting weird looks from some of the people walking by, but decided to ignore them as your concern for your teammate and girlfriend persevered. 

Last night, Ona had texted you telling you that she wouldn’t be at training the next morning. When you had asked why, she said she had just been feeling a little under the weather. You’d wanted to head over to her apartment immediately, but she’d told you not to come because she didn’t want to get you sick and said that she’d be back and over it within a day or so. Trusting her word and deciding to respect her decision, you hadn’t gone to see her and now you were regretting it. She hadn’t responded to your texts from the night before, or from this morning, or your call after training. A quick talk with the other girls on the Barcelona team told you that Ona hadn’t responded to any of her teammates in over a day. 

Seconds from bursting down the other girls’ door, you heard footsteps on the other side and took a quick step back as the door cracked open. You were met with a small view of the side of your girlfriends’ exhausted-looking face and you swore you felt a little bit of you crack within yourself as you took in her pitiful expression. 

“Oh, querida, ¿estás bien?” The Spanish term of endearment leaked through your voice. 

“Si. Why are you here?” Your girlfriend was unusually snippy with her words, and you nearly flinched at the irritation within them. Pushing away your hurt for now, you frowned briefly before responding. 

“You haven’t responded to anyone so I told the team I’d come see if you were alright.” You answered softly, trying to ease your way past Ona’s emotional barriers. Over the past few months, you’d gotten to know the fiercely motivated and independent woman even better, discovering a side of her that was tenderly affectionate, goofy, and observantly kind. 

You’d discovered that her love language was physical touch– whether it be holding pinkies, an arm swung around your shoulder during training, or just fully flopping on top of you during team bonding nights, she was always touching you. You’d learned her love for dancing and singing and, while she wasn’t particularly good at either, the two of you had a lot of fun trying to do both. You’d also noticed how she always had an eye out for you, which had become especially apparent when you’d been taken down on the pitch during a match and she’d been the first one to run to you and help you up, giving your opponent several choice words as she did so. 

As much as you’d gotten to know the Spanish woman, you still felt like there were many things that she was trying to keep from you. She had yet to truly let her walls down around you, and it was incredibly noticeable at times like these. She talked very little about feelings or struggles, and it was almost as if she was afraid of what you’d think about her if she did speak about them, despite your reassurances. 

“Well, I am alright, so you can go.” Ona snapped back, though the fight had gone out of her voice. You sighed, shaking your head as Ona sniffled pitifully.

“Cariño, please let me in. I’d like to help you,” You whispered, taking a step closer to the door that separated you from the girl you’d very much like to be holding right now.

“I don’t want you to see me like this, I’m sick. You should leave before you catch what I have.” Ona whispered, voice hoarse from all the coughing that she’d been doing. You just shook your head, resting your hand on the door to Ona’s apartment but not applying any pressure to it. 

“Ona, when will you finally start to understand that I don’t want to just be with you, I want to be there for you. On your good days and on your bad, on your healthy days and your sick ones. I want to be there for you when you’re on the top of the world, and when you’re at the bottom. Please– let me in so I can be there for you?” The speech had been one that had been circulating through your mind for quite a long time, ever since you’d first realized that Ona was holding herself back from you. 

Ona sniffled, and there were a few seconds of silence between the two of you before she fully opened the door that separated the two of you. You took in her being, from her brown hair that was pulled into a messy bun, to her red-rimmed and tired-looking eyes, to the large baggy sweatshirt and shorts that you think may have been yours. 

“Oh, Ona. C’mere, dear. I’ve got you, you can relax now, bebé.” You weren’t usually so affectionate with your words, but the pet names kept slipping from your lips as you tried to reassure your girlfriend. Taking a step inside the apartment, you allowed the door to close behind you as you took Ona into your embrace, pulling her into you gently and planting a kiss to her warm forehead. 

You held her like that for a few seconds, hands coming up to rest on her shoulders and massage the tension away from them. She was like putty in your hands, relaxing with a quiet groan into your arms and you smiled at her gently. Slowly, you began to guide her towards the couch in the corner of her house, sitting her down onto the cushions and pecking her forehead gently with the promise of coming right back to her side. You bustled about her house, rushing about to make some tea and honey, something your own mother had made for you when you were sick. You also grabbed her a gatorade for some options, bringing both items back for her and setting them down on the table beside the couch. 

“Ona, querida. Have you taken your temperature recently?” You asked, moderately concerned about the heat radiating from her body. Ona just shook her head slowly with a tired groan, turning towards you and cracking an eye open. 

“Lay down with me, por favor. I miss you, amor.” Ona said, and an affectionate smile slipped onto your face before you shook your head. 

“Not quite yet, dear. I’ll be right back though, and then you and I can cuddle all you want.” You promised yet again, going to grab some medicine and a thermometer for your sickly girlfriend and coming back to her side rather quickly. Taking her temperature, clicked your tongue a few times and decided to see if the tea and medicine would do something to make her feel better. If not, you had no problems shoving her into a lukewarm shower to try and lower her temperature, though you didn’t think she needed it as of yet. 

Giving her the medicine and getting her to take a few sips of the tea, you had to leave her side yet again to put the thermometer and medicine back in her bathroom, which was apparently quite irritating to your girlfriend as she whined.

“You promised last time that we could lay here together when you came back and now you’re leaving again! You are una mentirosa!” Deciding to play up to her words, you simply planted another kiss to her cheek with another promise to be back very quickly, much to the exaggerated disappointment of your girlfriend. 

Once you dropped the thermometer and medicine off where you’d gotten them from, you paused for a second and looked around to see if you were forgetting anything else. Taking the moment to think, you pulled out your phone and sent a text to your Barcelona captain to give her an update on Ona’s condition, knowing that the woman had taken Ona under her wing and cared for her deeply. Alexia had wanted to come with you to take care of Ona, but had had some media duties to take care of for the club, so you’d told her that you’d keep her updated. 

After sending out your text to the captain, you made your way back to Ona’s side. She was half asleep, but the second she heard you coming her eyes opened again. 

“Y/N–” She drawled out sleepily. “Come hereeee!” You giggled at her but made your way over, lifting her upper body up and slipping yourself beneath her, figuring that it may help her breathe a little better. You shifted so that one of your legs was on each side of her body, resting against the armrest of the couch with Ona laying back against you. Gently, you pulled her hair from the bun it was in and carded your hands through her hair, pressing another kiss to her forehead. You were beyond content to lay there and comfort your girl.

After a few moments of soft silence, Ona spoke up. “I’m sorry I didn’t respond to you, I didn’t want to be a burden to you or the girls.”

You hesitated on the right wording for the strong emotions that you were feeling. Finally, you figured out what you wanted to say, “You are not a burden to me or any of the other girls, amor. I know what I signed up for when I asked you on a date. There is nowhere I’d rather be than by your side, supporting you in each and every way I can, and that includes caring for you when you’re struggling.”

You saw Ona smile at your words and felt her relax into you even more, taking your free hand between her own and holding it gently. As you continued to gently pull your fingers through her hair, she played with the fingers of your other hand. You could tell that she was falling asleep against you, but you could also tell that she was nervous to do so. Gently, you whispered, “Sleep, querida. I’ll be right here when you wake again.”

As the other girl nodded off, you could feel yourself starting to slip. Checking that Ona was comfortable and wouldn't fall off, you allowed yourself to fall into a fitful sleep with your girlfriend in your arms.

-----

Just a few days later, Ona was back to feeling much better and kicking ass on the pitch once again. The days you’d spent taking care of her had you much closer to her than you had been before, and you felt like you were getting past the walls that she’d built around herself. The more you got to know the Spanish defender, the more you found yourself falling deeply in love with her. 

You had told her you would be by her side through everything, and had meant every single word of it.

[dayasfilms]

Chapter Six - Competitive

Summary: The day to present your designs has come. You knew Steve cared about winning, but you didn’t realize just how competitive he really was until now. You also find out that not everyone played fair. Some people on the team apparently made their own rules.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of Y/N, workplace competition, rivalry, cheating, unfairness, Steve gives cold shoulder, Luxe and Steve have tension, workplace drama, Argyle is a great guy, Robin and Eddie lowkey being annoying

Word Count: 4.4k

Note: This chapter is short but chapter seven is super duper long!! The next chapter will only be Steve and Luxe centered, so look forward to all that chapter has to offer hehe. Anyway, let me know what you think of this chapter and what you think will happen in the next!!

Series Masterlist

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You and Steve stood at the front of the meeting room, presenting your project to the team. Ever since you walked in that morning, he’d barely looked at you. When you asked him a question, he gave you short, clipped responses, never meeting your eyes.

You felt awful about your outburst yesterday. He didn’t deserve it. He hadn’t done anything wrong. You were angry, and you didn’t know how to deal with it, so you lashed out. Things were actually starting to get better between you two, and then you went and ruined it.

You kept telling yourself it shouldn’t matter what he thinks of you or how cold he’s being now, but there was something inside you that still wanted to fix it. It was like there was this force pulling you towards him.

Despite the strain, you made it through the presentation smoothly. Both of you kept things clear and concise, explaining everything so your coworkers could follow along without feeling overwhelmed. There were no stumbles or awkward silences, just two professional people doing their job.

Steve nodded at you before turning back to the team. “So, to sum it up,” he said, voice steady. “Our design proves that sustainability doesn’t have to sacrifice the planet. Y/N and I wanted to create something that feels like streetwear, showcasing its boldness, but still respects our environment. That balance is what we were aiming for with this piece.”

You glanced at him briefly, surprised at the mention of your name. You don’t think he’s ever said it until now. You cleared your throat, stepping in to add the final words. “We designed this to show that style can evolve with our values. Sustainable fashion should feel wearable and authentic. That’s what we tried to capture here. It’s about shifting the way we think about fashion. We can be cool without being completely careless.”

You glanced around the room, putting on your best smile as everyone began to applaud. The designer smiled as she clapped along with the rest of the team, and you glanced at Steve, only to see him already looking at you.

Nancy stood from her seat, a wide grin lighting up her face as she looked between the two of you. “Incredible! Absolutely amazing! Great job, you two!”

You and Steve returned to the table, sliding into your seats beside each other. You glanced over at him, silently hoping for a smile or even a nod or just something, but Steve subtly shifted away, angling his body toward the front just as Jonathan and Argyle got up to present.

“Looks like Y/N and Steve are in the lead,” Nancy announced, settling back into her seat with a proud grin.

Eddie scoffed. “They were the first ones to go.”

“Exactly,” Nancy shot back, her tone playful.

You tried to smile at the banter, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Even with all the praise, all you could think about was the way Steve didn’t look at you, and how much it hurt that he didn’t.

Why you were feeling this way, you didn’t know.

You watched as the other two groups presented their designs, bringing a much different energy than you and Steve had. Argyle and Jonathan’s presentation was laid back and effortlessly cool, and their easy banter made the whole thing feel hilarious.

Then came Robin and Eddie, and their presentation was pure chaos in the best way. There were fake fog effects, dramatic lighting from a flashlight, and their outfits were a different story. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at their antics, half in disbelief and half impressed.

After everyone wrapped up their presentations, Nancy and the designer disappeared into her office to deliberate. The rest of you stayed behind in the meeting room, leading to playful banter.

“You guys were good,” Robin said casually, arms crossed as she leaned back in her seat. “But not as good as us.”

“Stop being so smug, Buckley,” Steve muttered, rolling his eyes.

“He’s just jealous,” Eddie chimed in, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Yo, I gotta admit,” Argyle said, nodding toward them. “Those special effects were kinda sick.”

Steve scoffed. “Their outfits were tacky.”

“That’s the jealousy talking, Harrington,” Eddie shot back, grinning wider.

You glanced at Steve out of the corner of your eye. His jaw was clenched tight, and he had his arms crossed so hard, it looked like he might snap them off. You could see the frustration behind his eyes. He had a feeling Robin and Eddie cheated again, but with the designer here, he couldn’t risk calling them out.

The chatter died down when the door finally opened. Nancy stepped in, followed closely by the designer, who had a clipboard tucked under one arm and a satisfied smile on her face.

“Alright, everyone,” Nancy announced, her voice bright with excitement. “That was amazing to watch. Honestly, all of you brought something unique to the table. But obviously, we had to choose a winner.”

You looked around the room as she began to speak again.

“The winners are…” She paused for dramatic effect. “Robin and Eddie!”

Robin threw her arms up, cheering. “Fifth time in a row, woo!”

Eddie leapt to his feet with a mock bow, before bringing Robin into a bear hug. “We are undefeated!”

The room erupted in applause. Everyone clapped, even Argyle and Jonathan. Everyone except Steve. You glanced at him again. He hadn’t moved. His arms were still folded, jaw tighter than ever, his eyes narrowed at the front of the room. You could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

Nancy continued. “Second place goes to Jonathan and Argyle. Great job, guys..”

Jonathan high-fived Argyle, and the room erupted into applause again.

“And third, we have Steve and Y/N. You two were superb! Don’t let the ranking discourage you. Your vision was strong.”

You smiled politely and nodded. You genuinely didn’t mind the outcome. But beside you, Steve looked like he might implode. Still, he said nothing, his eyes trained forward, burning holes into the floor.

The designer stepped forward then, walking up to Eddie and Robin. “You two did a wonderful job,” she said, shaking both their hands. “I’d love to chat more and look into developing this line further.”

Steve huffed and stomped out of the room, arms crossed tightly. You pursed your lips, watching Robin and Eddie chat with the designer, clearly not over their win. You furrowed your brows and decided to follow Steve, but by the time you turned the corner, his office door had already slammed shut.

You sighed, pausing outside the door. After a moment, you decided not to bother him. Instead, you headed toward the breakroom, in desperate need of caffeine.

As you poured yourself a cup of coffee, the breakroom door swung open and in came Robin and Eddie, laughing and high-fiving one another.

“Hey, sweets!” Eddie beamed, pulling you into a tight, dramatic hug before you could even react. Your arms stayed limp at your sides, your eyebrows knit together at the sudden contact.

“Congrats, you two,” you mumbled once he let go, rubbing your shoulder where he’d practically crushed your bones.

“Thanks, babe. We really poured our blood, sweat, and glitter into this one,” Robin said with a wink.

You gave her a tight smile, sipping your coffee as Steve entered the room, holding a single sheet of paper in his hand. It was slightly crumpled, like he’d been gripping it tightly.

Robin turned, smiling. “Hey, dingus! No hard feelings, right? You’ll get ‘em next time.”

“Oh, I’m not mad,” Steve said, voice clipped. He walked right past them, heading to the counter like he didn’t care, but then turned on his heel. “Actually, scratch that. I am mad. Because I found this on my computer.”

He held up the paper dramatically. Eddie squinted. “What is that?”

Steve walked over and slapped it on the breakroom table. “It’s a printout of the point breakdown spreadsheet. The one Nancy made before she locked it. You guys somehow added an extra twenty points to one of the categories. And it just happens to apply to your design only.”

Robin groaned. “Oh my God. Steve, that is so petty—”

“Petty?” Steve snapped, arms folded again. “You literally hacked the scoring system.”

“We didn’t hack it,” Eddie defended, holding his hands up innocently. “We…creatively used our resources to help our chances.”

“Oh my goodness,” you muttered.

Robin rolled her eyes. “It’s not like anyone died. We just knew Nancy wouldn’t check again after locking it, and those points were just sitting there in our hearts, waiting to be validated.”

Just then, Nancy stepped into the breakroom with a folder in hand, stopping short when she saw the scene. “Um. What’s going on?”

Steve looked at her and then pointed to the paper. “Ask your ‘top team’ how they magically gained twenty points overnight.”

Nancy took the paper, scanning it. Her brows furrowed. “Robin? Eddie?”

Robin bit her lip. “Okay. In our defense—”

“You cheated.”

“We tweaked it.”

Nancy exhaled sharply. “Unbelievable. That category wasn’t even approved. Come on, you guys.”

Robin and Eddie didn’t say anything, shifting on their feet uncomfortably as Nancy shook her head in disappointment.

Nancy sighed, before turning to you and Steve, guilt creeping into her voice. “I’m sorry, you two. If I had known…I never would’ve let this happen. But it’s too late to do anything now. The designer already signed with them.”

You gave her a shrug “It’s okay. I don’t really mind.”

Steve didn’t respond. He just stood there, jaw tight and arms crossed. Robin and Eddie looked between each other, and the grin that was once on Eddie’s face completely wiped off.

“Whatever,” Steve said flatly, brushing past all of you toward the door. You turned slightly, watching as he pushed the breakroom door open and let it shut behind him with a loud thud.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie added, shrugging with his hands raised in mock surrender. “We didn’t mess with Jonathan and Argyle’s points. They won second place fair and square.”

You offered a tight lipped smile, nodding, but your mind was elsewhere. “I’ll try to talk to him,” you said, stepping away from the counter and brushing off your clothes, trying to distract yourself.

As you headed out into the hallway, your heels clicking against the tile, you couldn’t help but think that Steve was seriously competitive. You knew he was stubborn, but this was personal. And maybe, if you were honest with yourself, that kind of passion was oddly attractive.

No, what were you saying? Where was this coming from?

You hesitated outside his office, hand hovering near the door. You took a deep breath, debating if this was a good idea. You didn’t know why you wanted to check up on him so badly. You didn’t even like him. Perhaps it was the guilt from yesterday, for blowing up on him, so you wanted to make things right.

You knocked lightly. You waited, but didn’t get a response. You waited for a few more seconds before rolling your eyes, turning the knob to push the door open. “Steve?”

He didn’t even look at you as he paced behind his desk. “I’m busy.”

You stepped inside anyway, ignoring the coldness in his voice. “You stormed off like a child. Figured I’d check if you combusted.”

Steve gave you a flat look from where he stood, arms crossed and jaw tight. “I’m fine.”

You raised a brow. “You don’t look fine. You look like you’re about to flip over your desk.”

He turned away from you, muttering something under his breath as he fiddled with a stack of papers. You watched him for a moment, could see how tense his shoulders were, the way he avoided your eyes, the red flush that still lingered on his cheeks.

“You’re seriously upset about losing,” you said, more amused than anything. “I mean…it’s not the end of the world. You’re still Steve Harrington, the very stubborn Brand Manager.”

That got a scoff out of him, but still, he didn’t turn around.

“I didn’t know you were this competitive,” you continued, walking slowly toward his desk. “I mean, everyone has a competitiveness streak here and there but this is just wow. It’s a whole new level.”

He finally turned to face you, eyes sharp. “It’s not just about losing.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “Then what is it about?”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to yell, but instead, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s about integrity,” he muttered. “Robin and Eddie screwed with our score. They cheated. And everyone’s acting like it’s funny.” He shook his head, lips pressed into a tight line. “They made us come in last, Luxe. They do this every time, but I just could never find proof.”

You tried not to laugh, but it slipped out. “Okay, but like, you do know this isn’t the Olympics, right?”

He glared at you, making you grin right back.

“I’m not saying you don’t have a point,” you added quickly. “It’s just…wow. You really care.”

“I care about the work. It’s about fairness.”

You smiled a little. “And winning.”

“And winning,” he admitted with a sigh.

He looked at you for a long moment, not saying anything at all. He just stared. You shifted a little, unsure if he was going to respond, but Steve was locked in place. His jaw was tense, eyes flickering over your face like he was searching for the right thing to say.

He wanted to say something. He really did. There was a smartass comment on the tip of his tongue, something that could’ve made you roll your eyes or laugh, something that might’ve brought you both back to that ease the two of you had for the last few days.

But he didn’t forget what you said yesterday. The way you blew up at him. The way you got angry at him for no reason, like everything that happened between you didn’t matter. So instead, his voice came out tight.

“Thanks,” he said flatly. “Appreciate the feedback.”

Your smile dropped and the teasing glint in your eyes faded. You lingered a moment longer, hoping he’d soften, that maybe he’d crack a joke. He didn’t.

So you pushed off the edge of the desk, nodding once. “Right,” you muttered. “Cool. I’ll leave you alone.”

The door shut behind you with a loud thud. Steve sighed, sitting in his chair and leaning back, before dragging a hand over his face.

You walked back to your desk, a frown etched onto your face. You plopped into your chair and tried to focus, but your fingers just hovered above your keyboard.

“You look like someone just told you brunch was canceled,” a voice chimed beside you.

You blinked, jumping a little in your seat before turning your head. Argyle stood there with a lopsided grin, holding a plant. Where he got it from, you had no idea.

“What…are you doing?” You asked slowly.

“I’m rehoming Marjorie. She didn’t like sitting by the breakroom microwave. She told me.”

You didn’t remember ever seeing a plant by the microwave. Maybe you just didn’t pay close enough attention. You stared at him for a second. “Right. Of course. The plant told you.”

“She’s dramatic,” he said, placing it gently on the corner of your desk. “Fits in here.”

You let out a small laugh, looking up at him with raised eyebrows.

Argyle grinned like he’d won a prize. “There it is. I’ve literally never heard you laugh before. Thought it might be against your personal brand or something.”

“I laugh,” you said defensively.

“Yeah, like a girl who just got told her trust fund is getting delayed.”

Your mouth dropped open in mock offense. “That’s so rude.”

“Am I wrong though?”

Your silence said enough.

Argyle plopped into the chair beside you like he had nothing better to do. “So, what’s got you looking like someone just told you your credit card got declined?”

You snorted despite yourself. “Steve’s being an asshole.”

He nodded. “Ah. Mr. Golden Boy. Yeah, we all saw him storm away earlier. Pretty dramatic if you ask me.”

You gave a breathy laugh and shook your head. “I don’t even get him sometimes. One minute he’s nice, the next he’s cold, and I…I don’t know.”

Argyle tilted his head. “Guess that’s a him problem.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m serious,” he said, leaning back. “You’re chill. A little high maintenance, maybe, like if lip gloss were a person. You may have been a bit cold at first, but I don’t think you’re mean. I think he’s just allergic to unresolved tension.”

You crossed your arms. “Wow. That was…oddly insightful.”

He gave a proud nod. “I’m a pretty smart guy, or so the legends say.”

There was a second before you cracked a smile. “Okay, Argyle. I actually enjoyed your little pep talk. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“No problem, my dude,” he said with a dramatic bow. “Anytime you need someone to be weirdly philosophical, I got you.”

Your laugh came out loud this time. “Thanks for this. I know I was a bit of a bitch when I came here, but I’m working on it.”

“You were like if Vogue came to life and judged my sneakers.”

“I won’t even lie. I did judge them.”

“I know.”

You both laughed, and it felt good. For a moment, the tension with Steve faded into the background, and all you could focus on was how unexpectedly easy it was to talk to Argyle. You wondered where he was all your life and why you were just talking to him now.

Maybe Braiser you wouldn’t have even bothered. But this version of you was learning that people didn’t need to come from your world to make you feel seen.

The thought struck you a little harder than you expected. That version of you, the one who’d built walls so high she couldn’t see over them, would’ve rolled her eyes at a guy like Argyle. Would’ve dismissed him with a raised brow and a sarcastic comment, never letting him get a word in. You hadn’t realized how much you’d changed until now, until you heard your own laugh in a place like this, surrounded by people you would’ve never associated yourself with. This version of you was still complicated. You were still guarded and still easily irritated, but you were learning.

Argyle nudged the small potted plant closer to you on the table. “Anyway. Marjorie likes you. She stays.”

You looked at the plant. Its leaves were sort of floppy. “She better not die.”

“She won’t,” Argyle said confidently. “I also gave her a pep talk. She’s got high hopes for you, my dude.”

You smiled at the joke. “Alright then,” you murmured, brushing one finger against a leaf. “Welcome to the team, Marjorie.”

Just then, Jane walked up to your desk, clutching a folder in her hands.

“Hey Y/N!” She said brightly. “Are you ready for the work trip?”

Your smile dropped. “What work trip?”

Argyle scrunched his nose. “Oh…”

Jane blinked. “Wait…they didn’t tell you?”

Mike suddenly popped up behind her like a human jump scare, a granola bar halfway to his mouth. “Oops. Guess someone forgot to explain the part about last place doing extra work.”

You stared at them. “I’m sorry. What?”

“Yeah,” Mike said through a mouthful. “The team in last place has to assist the planning committee. You know, like setting things up, lifting boxes, taking notes, maybe even building furniture if you’re lucky. General manual labor. Nothing glamorous. Definitely not rich girl approved.”

Jane winced apologetically. “It’s not that bad. Plus, it’s only a three day trip.”

“It’s upstate in a rural area,” Mike added, grinning. “You’ll love it. Bugs, dirt, sweat, no Wi-Fi.”

You turned slowly to Argyle. “You knew about this?”

He held up his hands. “I thought you knew!”

You groaned and slumped back into your chair. “This place is a fever dream.”

Just as you were debating whether to run away and fake an injury, Nancy came over, arms crossed like she’d been waiting for the right moment. Mike, Jane, and Argyle took the hint and quietly slipped away, clearly wanting no part in whatever storm was about to hit.

“You knew about this too?” You asked, eyes narrowing. “Wait, don’t answer that. You’re literally the boss.”

Nancy winced. “Okay, yes. I’m sorry. But to be fair, you have the right to refuse.”

You crossed your arms. “Oh, I do? Great. What’s the catch?”

“There’s no catch,” Nancy said quickly. “Except…Steve already agreed to go.”

Your mouth parted. “So?”

“So…if you don’t go, he’ll be the only one from the team there. Alone. With the planning committee. In the heat.”

You stared at her, frustration building up inside of you.

Nancy gave a shrug and a small smile. “Totally your choice.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, eyes falling shut as you ran through everything in your head. You could say no, step back, forget about it entirely. But then you thought of the brunette man, of how his stubbornness made you want to smack him upside the head. You didn’t sign up to spend extra time with Steve Harrington.

Still, you couldn’t help but feel bad. You weren’t cruel. Maybe you had been once, back when you only thought about yourself, when no one else mattered, but you weren’t that girl from Braiser anymore. Your gaze drifted toward Nancy. She was quiet, watching you carefully, brows pulled together like she already knew the answer but didn’t want to push you.

You didn’t like this. You didn’t want to go. And you definitely didn’t want to be stuck on a work trip doing work with someone who thought nicknaming you Luxe was the height of comedy. But, as much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t want him to do it alone.

“I’m going to regret this,” you finally said.

She tilted her head slightly. “So…that’s a yes?”

“I swear, if this turns into a bonding experience or something, I will physically walk into traffic.”

Nancy let out a small laugh. “Okay, so you guys are basically helping the design team organize materials. It’s nothing too serious.”

You gave her a pointed look. “Sounded like it was going to be messy”

She tried to hide her grin. “If Mike said something, he was overexaggerating.”

You huffed. You didn’t know whether you wanted to scream or sigh. “I’m not doing this for him, just so you know” you said, mostly to yourself. You don’t know why you just said that.

“No, of course not,” Nancy replied gently. “You’re doing it for you.”

You gave her a long, narrowed look. “Don’t give me that look.” Nancy laughed. You crossed your arms, then dropped them again, then pinched the bridge of your nose. “God, I really am going to regret this.”

“You’ll be fine,” she said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “And if it’s any consolation…the cabin doesn’t have rats.”

You squinted. “That’s a low bar.”

Nancy giggled. “It’s still something.”

“Great.”

You didn’t wait for her to follow you as you stood up and stomped back toward the breakroom, muttering curses under your breath. You weren’t sure if they were meant for her or yourself, but either way, they felt necessary.

You weren’t doing this for Steve. God, no. You weren’t that kind of girl that fell over themselves to please some boy with perfect hair and a boyish grin. You had pride and standards and boundaries. So why did you agree so easily?

You shoved the door to the breakroom open, only to stop before you fully walked inside. Because there he was, the man that was currently consuming your thoughts. Steve was standing by the counter, arms casually braced on either side of his mug. His head tilted back as he laughed at something Eddie said, the sound low and warm. Robin stood beside him, sipping from a paper cup and nodding along with a smug little smile, like everything was right in the world again.

The three of them had clearly made up, like nothing had ever happened. Like Steve hadn’t found them cheating an hour ago. They hadn’t noticed you yet, you only hovered in the doorway, eyes fixed on the back of Steve’s head as the buzz of their laughter continued to fill the room.

Of course they made up right when you began to get angry at them. You weren’t initially mad that you lost, but now you wanted to strangle Robin and Eddie for messing this entire thing up. They cheated and still got to laugh and drink their coffee like they didn’t turn your next few days upside down. Now you were the one stuck on some stupid work trip, alone, with Steve Harrington.

You had never done this kind of thing in your life, volunteering to help. That was for people like them, people below your kind, the ones who were too kind and always happy to help others. You never had to deal with this. You had people deal with it for you. But not this time.

You slowly stepped back and leaned back against the wall just outside the breakroom, hoping none of them noticed you lurking like a weirdo, and tilted your head back with a sigh so deep it almost made your bones ache.

You couldn’t believe you said yes. You couldn’t believe you were going to do this. You’d be spending hours in a car with him. Talking to painfully cheerful people. Dealing with cabin rooms and probably a bad breakfast. All because Robin and Eddie couldn’t finish a damn project like adults. And the worst part was that you’d be alone with Steve. You closed your eyes, already preparing yourself for the onslaught of small talk, awkward silences, and hateful glances.

Without permission, your mind drifted back to him. To the way his mouth quirked when he laughed, or how he ran a hand through his hair constantly. You could still hear his voice in your head, the way he threw his words at you, his sarcasm, the way he said your name today for the first time during the presentation today.

You told yourself you didn’t want to spend time with him. Though, no matter how hard you tried, there was that quiet voice inside of you that kept telling you the opposite.

[saturn-peache]

Crush (One-Shot)

A/N: I'm just gonna post some one-shots I had already posted on AO3 for those of you who prefer to read on here instead. This is one of them. enjoy :)

NSFW (18+) MDNI | One-Shot | Evan Buckley x Reader

-----------------------------------------------

Read on AO3

You’re restocking the ambulance with medical supplies, going through your checklist with Chimney, when Buck offers a hand.

“No way, Buckley. You lost your clip board privileges a long time ago,” you decline. He just shrugs and bounces away, the smile on his face never faltering, “Suit yourself.”

“He somehow seems more…peppy than usual,” You say to Chimney absentmindedly.

“Right?!,” he agrees, “I said that to Maddie a couple days ago and she was acting so weird. I think she knows something. He probably told her a secret and made her swear not to tell me.”

“A secret, huh? Oh, that slimy motherfucker,” You snicker to yourself and Chimney, “Now we just have to figure it out”

As the shift goes on, Buck seems to be in a great mood. He even lifts weights with a slight grin. It’s almost unsettling, you think to yourself, frowning from where you were trying to subtly spy on him. You catch him upstairs while he’s cooking for the team.

“Hey Buck, what are you cooking?” You ask innocently, trying to sniff him out.

“I’m glad you asked. I’m making baked ziti for lunch, and a special little batch of my chocolate chip cookies,” He explains.

“Interesting…” You say, internally cheering at the fact that you’ll be having your favourite foods later today.

You decide to push your luck and see what you can squeeze out of him. “So, what’s got you so …giddy?”

“Me? This is just normal me I guess”

“Nope. You’re the firehouse golden retriever sure, but this is a bit much, even for you.”

“I…uh, I don’t know. Do you really hate seeing me happy this much?” He teases.

“No, I just…I need to know,” You take a beat —“You know, a little birdie told me that you have a secret. Does this have anything to do with that, maybe?” “Secret? That’s ridiculous. I’m an open book, I don’t have secrets,” He says, way too fast and completely unconvincingly, earning a stern stare down from you. “Fine…Maybe,” He caves.

“A secret, huh?” You say, circling him, when your phone buzzes. It’s a text from Chimney that says: ‘New intel: apparently Buck’s got a crush. That’s all I managed to get.’

You smirk up at Buck, “So this is about a crush!”

“What? How did? Did Maddie say something? Ugh I swear…Wait, how much do you know.”

“Oh, I know everything,” You bluff.

He laughs, “So you don’t know anything apart from that I have a crush?”

“I’ll figure it out. It only takes one social media deep dive these days,” You play nonchalant.

“Well, good luck with that,” He says, seeming too relaxed. You were determined to find out who he was crushing on. Something in the depths of your stomach made you feel like you had to know more than anything.

By the end of shift, you were exhausted. The last few calls were rough. The only thing that saved the day from being a complete disaster was the fact that your stomach was full of baked ziti and chocolate chip cookies.

“So, detective, did you figure it out yet?” Asked Buck, somehow still cheerful after that difficult day.

“No,” you answered, defeated, “Not yet, but I am determined.”

“You know, I was gonna go to a bar tonight with some people. Maybe you should come, meet her there.”

“Maybe I will,” you replied, “Although I won’t make any promises. I’m so exhausted I feel like I need a bath and then a 24 hour nap.”

“Yeah, just come by if you feel like it,” He said, still sporting that goofy smile.

Later that evening, you were already set on staying home, but then you decided that the feeling in your stomach, the one that made you want so badly to find out who Buck was crushing on, was too strong and there was no way you could live with that curiosity. You hopped in the shower, then put on a basic but cute outfit, with the limited amount of time to get ready. You still managed to make yourself look good, sporting all black as you so often did. You shot Buck a quick text, realising you had no idea what bar you were supposed to go to. He replied almost instantly and soon after that you were in an Uber on your way to some bar you’d never heard of.

By the time you got to the bar, it was late. The bar was packed full of college kids and you hoped Buck was not crushing on some sophomore student or something. You pushed through the crowd, looking for Buck, your eyes scanning the room, until they fell on a booth in the corner. It was empty apart from a human golden retriever, sitting alone sipping on a glass of beer. Your heart dropped. Was this a date and the girl he has a crush on was somewhere around here? That would be weird, right? You’d be a total third wheel. Or even worse, had she stood him up? Your heart ached at the thought. You decide to march to the booth, quickly sitting across from him. He smiled when he realised you had arrived.

“When you said drinks with some people I assumed there would be…you know, multiple people. Where is this girl, anyway? Did she not show up?”

“Good evening to you, too,” He chuckles

“Yeah, yeah. Good evening. Seriously though, I’m meant to be taking a bath and a long nap, if this chick didn’t show up, I swear…” You grumble

He just shook his head, the smile still plastered on his face.

“What’s so funny? Is there no crush? Did you and Maddie and Chimney conspire against me just to make me feel insane? Oh, you are good. The Buckleys gang up against me, and they use my fellow paramedic to do it? This is sick work,” You complain.

He takes your hand, “Calm down, there’s no conspiracy” He says, “Well, there kind of is, but Maddie and Chim are not involved.”

You tilt your head to the side, unsure of what he’s getting at.

“Do you remember what you said to me the first time we met?” He asked.

“Specifically? No…” You pondered, “Something about how if you get me in trouble I would make your life a living hell or whatever?”

“Well, yes,” He laughed, “But that’s not what I meant. You told me that you would only ever cry in front of someone if they were on their death bed and it was their very last dying wish”

“Yeah sounds like me. So I was kind of an unfeeling dick, so what?” You asked, unsure of what he was trying to tell you.

“You said, that the only other time you could ever see yourself crying in front of another human being was if you were fully, head over heels in love, which at the time you meant as a joke implying it would never happen, but…”

“But last week I cried in front of you in your car,” you finished his sentence, finally catching on. “So, you’re dying then?” You asked, trying to lighten the mood and rid yourself of the knot that was forming in your throat.

He shook his head softly, “You felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with me, something you swore you would only do if you loved someone,” He explained, stating what you already knew, now forcing you to deal with the truth.

“That’s why you’ve been so happy…because you think I love you?” You asked, staring at the glass of beer on the table, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

“Don’t you?”

You nod silently, unable to speak the words out loud, and even with your gaze averted you can feel him smiling. “Look at me,” he commands. You look up sheepishly. “I know you have all these walls up, and that this is hard for you to even talk about, but I like you and you like me…so why pretend?” He goes on.

“It’s not that simple,” You protest

“Why not?”

“Because…I’m not the person you want to be with. You just want to feel like you managed to crack the tough nut, but when you actually realise what’s inside, you’ll get bored. You won’t like me anymore. Then we’ll just have awkward coworker tension until this job kills one of us.”

“Do you really think so little of me?” He asks sincerely.

“What? No, I just know that I’m not what you think I am. What you want me to be.”

“How about I decide what I like and you just act like yourself?” He says, sounding slightly harsh. “If you…If you opened me up and then didn’t like what you saw…Buck, that might kill me”

“I…I do like what I see. I always have. Your walls have already come down. You don’t realise it but they have. And I have never liked you more,” He explains. “Listen, I don’t know if we’ll stay together forever, but if we don’t it won’t be because I get bored of you or I don’t like who you really are. It won’t be. I promise you that.”

“…So just to clarify, there’s no crush coming here for me to meet?” You ask, desperate to lighten the mood.

He sighs, clearly frustrated, then throws a ten dollar bill on the table, grabbing your hand and forcibly dragging you out of the bar. When you make it out of the loud, crowded establishment and onto the quieter street, he catches you off guard when you feel his arms pulling you to him. You standing chest to chest, or chest to neck since he is quite a bit taller than you are, your faces in close proximity, not quite touching. You’re faced with reality. There is nowhere to hide. Nowhere for you to deflect to. His hand cups your cheek and he hesitates for a moment before planting a soft kiss onto your lips. You can’t help but melt into the kiss. Regardless of your fears, you have dreamt of this moment, although you would never admit that to anyone, especially not to him. The kiss deepens a little, both of your tongues coming into play. When you finally pull away, he keeps his eyes locked on yours.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” He pleads, “Tell me to stop.” But you can’t do that. You can’t lie to him. You want nothing more than him. Now, later, always. You’ve tried to suppress it, to bury those feelings and pretend that you just didn’t have function in the part of your brain that regulates romantic attraction, but right now you can’t deny how badly you want him, even if you tried.

He takes your silence as permission, once again bringing your lips together, this time kissing you with more fervour. The kiss deepens quickly, and both of you are exploring each other with your hands, while your tongues fight for dominance. Your teeth clack together, both of you too lost in each other to hold back. Your mind is in overdrive. You decide to be reckless. To act with your heart and forget your head, just for right now. “Take me home.”

The drive to your place is quiet. There’s a palpable tension in Buck’s range rover, as he drives the short distance which seems to take forever. Both of you are unsure as to what happens when you get there. He heard you ask to take you home, but there was no promise of anything beyond that in your words. Even if there had been, he would never expect anything from you, despite the ache he felt deep within, his body yearning to have you.

When he pulls up to your place, the parking space right in front of your building is empty. You think it must be fate, or some sick twisted joke fate was playing on you. Either way, you know he is staying over tonight. In an effort to be brave, you reach over the centre console, grabbing his face and kissing him.

He seems to have had the same idea, which leads to an awkward collision between your noses rather than a romantic kiss. You both break down laughing, your hands on each other’s faces. This is the first moment that’s felt normal since the words he uttered at that bar. You feel safe again. You remember now, that this is your friend Buck, the guy you love spending time with, your favourite coworker, the only one who can make you laugh on your bad days. This, this, is the man you’re in love with, and for some reason unbeknownst to you, he seems to love you too.

“Buck?” You say, still giggling.

“Yeah?” He answers, his ears perking up at the sound of your voice.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” You ask.

“I do” He answers, his smile back to its rightful spot on his face. He runs out of the car, racing to your side of the vehicle, helping you out and closing the door behind you. The two of you go up to your floor, hand in hand, giggling like school children. It still feels slightly unusual to be holding hands and acting like this with him, but it also feels exactly right. He stops you right before you get to your door, his hands on either side of your head on the wall behind you, pinning you there. He leads in, his soft, buttery lips kissing you so sweetly and tenderly it feels like your heart is going to explode. When he’s finally done with you, you unlock your door, and he wastes no time getting you into your apartment, making sure to lock the door behind you.

He wraps his arms around your thick thighs, swiftly lifting you up in the air, and setting you down on your kitchen table. You crane your neck to kiss him, your head reeling from everything that’s going on. He’s eager. You can feel it in his movements. He seems almost nervous, his body slightly tremors as he runs his hands up and down your bare legs. His fingers make their way under your dress, and he pulls your panties off. Your stomach is doing backflips but you don’t want the first time you have sex with Buck to be on the kitchen table. This was more than just some drunken hookup or a meaningless one night stand. You should savour the moment, and wait a little bit longer, at least to make it to the bedroom. You place your hands on his muscular shoulders, both to steady yourself and both to slow him down. He’s a little puzzled by it but he goes with it.

“Everything okay?” He whispers

“Yeah,” You nod, “but I think it’s time for you to take me to bed. Like my actual bed, not my kitchen.” He blushes, wasting no time to pick you up, carrying you to your bedroom. Those muscles were clearly not just for show, as he carried you with relative ease. He gently lowered you onto the bed, understanding, as you did, that this was an important moment for the two of you. Although it had not been an hour since you two confessed your feeling for each other, this was the start of something real between the two of you. He grabs your ankle, kissing the inner part of your calf, like he is worshipping you from the bottom to the top. His fingers run up your body, covering your skin in goosebumps. He flips you over, unzipping your dress, then helping you out of it. Soon, you are left completely naked, having foregone a bra under the particular dress you were wearing. You blush a little, feeling exposed as he’s still fully clothed, but you hear him undressing and when you flip yourself on your back again, he’s in nothing but his boxer shorts, which were looking extremely tight on him.

He climbs on top of you, kissing your neck as his fingers cup your dripping core. He slips a finger between the folds, quickly finding your clit, and rubbing circles on it. You throw your head back in response, giving his mouth more access to your neck. He catches you off guard, slipping a finger into you, hearing you moan as the sensation hits you. Adding a second finger, he pumps in and out of you, getting you wet and loose, prepped for him. After a few blissful minutes of him fingering you, you start feeling bold, no longer shy or awkward.

You put both hands on his chest, pushing him off you. He’s not sure what you’re doing but instantly lets you push him up on his legs, so that he’s now standing over you next to the bed. You get up too, standing to kiss his neck, then down to his collar bones, and finally kneeling before him. His throat goes dry when he realises what you are about to do.

You pull down his boxer shorts, exposing his aching length, already glistening with precum. His size is intimidating in the best way You take him into your hands first, but quickly begin to use your mouth on him. You make sure your mouth is full of saliva, running your tongue over the tip, then swallowing his cock down your throat as far as you can, which is a feat considering how big he is. His hands grab your hair, holding it out of your face in a makeshift ponytail, helping you bob up and down on him in a rhythm. He fights the urge to fuck your mouth, not wanting to push you too far. He moans as his grip on your hair tightens and you, not wanting him to finish before the main event, take your lips off him, using his hands as leverage to stand up. He immediately kisses you, grabbing your hips roughly. He pushes you and you fall backwards landing on the mattress, and he follows on top of you.

Your legs wrap around his body, desperate for him now. He can feel how wet you are for him, ready to be stretched by his cock. He locks eyes with you as the tip of his cock presses against your opening, slipping all the way inside you in one move. Your eyes widen and you gasp loudly, the intense pleasure hitting you like a brick. He lowers his head and groans, your foreheads touching, and he begins to thrust into you.

You’ve never experienced anything like this. His size is incomparable to your past experiences, making you feel things you never knew you could. Every thrust makes him hit the right spot, causing your mind to black out, with nothing but pleasure on your mind. A few times, he even makes you squirt out a little bit of water involuntarily, which makes his head spin. He loves how well you’re taking him but more importantly, he loves to see how your body is reacting to him. Your heaving chest, your quivering legs, the parted lips. He is mesmerised by you. He is sure he’s not going to last too long. You also feel your orgasm build, the pressure in your lower abdomen threatening to blow. You grab onto him tightly, your eyes squeezing shut.

“Look at me, baby. Please,” He pleads. You make an effort to open your eyes, “Good girl. That’s my good girl. Are you getting close, baby?” All you can do is nod in response.

The sight of you is too much to handle and he groans, “Oh, fuck, I’m coming” He says breathily into your hair. You feel his cock twitch as come spills from his body, filling you up. The sensation is all you need, sending you over the edge, and you hold each other as you come together. You can’t say a word, your mind going at a million miles a minute. Is this even really happening? Your hole is full of Buck’s cum. He’s on top of you. He loves you. It’s all so overwhelming, in the best way.

When he finally gets up and pulls out, he grabs a rag and wipes the come that dribbled out of you off your thighs, then cleans himself up. He gets back in bed with you, snuggling up to you, his big arms pulling you as tightly to his chest as possible. Your heart flutters. You hate what a sappy softie he turns you into with just a touch, but you want him to turn you into a sappy softy forever if possible. He kisses the top of your head, taking in the familiar scent of your hair. Just hours ago you were theorising about a mystery woman he could be in love with, only to find out it was you all along. You should have known.

“I meant every word,” He says, breaking the silence

“What?”

“I…I love you. I do. I want us to be together. I know we kinda fucked it up with…uhh, this”

“We didn’t fuck anything up,” you say, cutting him off, “and for the record, I love you too.”

He smiles, burying his face in your hair, his arms wrapping around you even more tightly. Your phone buzzes and you reach out to see what’s happening. It’s a text from Chimney that reads: ‘Maddie finally caved, you’re not gna guess who Buck's crush is on! :O!! 911!!.’

You shoot him a quick text back, ‘actually I think I have a pretty good guess ;)’

[faeoffline]

forced eye contact is so hot. make me look at you while you make me feel good. hold my face to force me to look you in the eyes as you get me off. do the same while I suck you off. make me look at you while you put your fingers in my mouth and then put them inside of me. just. forced eye contact.

[bendover-productions]

Hiiiiii, have you watched the capture the flag in Japan season yet? Just curious 🩵

i have!! i really liked it—i thought it was a fun new idea with lots of opportunities for strategy and i wouldn’t mind another season of capture the flag, although i haven’t listened to the layover to know if it’s logistically feasible to do again. also, i was SO charmed by scotty and how earnest he was. i wanted him to win and do good so bad and scotty can do no wrong in my eyes 🫶

[thebibliosphere]

My husband and I were discussing how the first felon is defending the FDA and how the quality control of our food is gonna basically disappear and I proceeded to have so much anxiety about it that I didn't sleep last night. How do we prepare for this? Is there a way to make food safe at home? How can we avoid getting poisoned from the grocery store? Sorry for bringing this anxiety to your inbox but I'm exhausted and scared and I'm hoping you've come up with food safety tips what with your general food complications.

I’m afraid I don’t have a solution for something of this scale and am just as equally terrified, but that said:

Check your local state regulations. Some states actually have strict testing that the FDA when it comes to certain things like milk. See if they are listing any recalls.

Stop eating things raw for the foreseeable future. Wash and cook everything thoroughly, even if the bag claims it’s pre-washed, wash it again. Cooking will also help eliminate any remaining pathogens. It means no more salads for a while but that’s okay.

For things like fruit, try to go with things that have an outer skin that can be taken off. If it requires you to cut into it with a knife, give the outer skin a scrub and rinse to reduce the chances of your knife being contaminated by anything like e-coli and then contaminating the insides by cutting it up.

For fruit that can’t be peeled, make sure to inspect and wash them thoroughly. If you are immunocompromised like me, consider cooking it down into a jam or pie filling to reduce further risk. Not as fun as eating it fresh for some people, but it’s a valid way of still getting the flavor and nutrients.

For things like milk, only drink pasteurized and ultra pasteurized. Try to get pasteurized eggs if you can too.

If you don’t have a meat thermometer, now is the time to get one. Make sore everything is cooked to its required internal temperature. For poultry, the recommended temperature is 165°F (74°C), while for beef and pork, the recommended temperature is 145°F (63°C) with a 3-minute rest time. Ground meats should be cooked to 160°F (71°C). Eggs should be cooked until the yolk is set. No more runny egg yolks for a bit until we get a competent source of information back about bird flu.

For things like flour, try to go for reputable brands that have their own independent testing facilities for things like gluten. They also usually test for other things and clean their facilities thoroughly. My go to is King Arthur atm.

Also, stop eating raw cookie dough if you’re not going to toast the flour in the oven first. That’s how a lot of people get sick, not necessarily from the raw egg, though stop eating raw egg right now if you do. Again, bird flu. [Addendum] I learned the flour trick in a job I used to work, but apparently, the pre-defunded FDA didn't think toasting the flour made it safe, so maybe just don't eat raw cookie dough. And I know someone's going to be a cunt in the notes like "I don't care I do what I want" good for you, hope saying that made you feel better.]

This is a dwindling possibility with the tariffs but try to buy food imported from other countries that still have food quality control. I get my masa harina from a small company that imports directly from Colombia. They can’t afford the gluten free label required to be classified as such in the USA, but considering Cheerios in the USA can afford to buy that label and the celiac foundation certification logo and still routinely sells contaminated produce due to not using gluten free oats and a mechanical sorting system that can’t be certified gluten free (1) (2) (3), I’m more inclined to go with other countries labeling right now.

With clean water under threat, use a filter for your drinking water. We currently use the ones by Life Straw. They don’t fit into your faucet but the LS filters are better than most of the ones that can be attached that way and the housing of the jugs and countertop filters are easy to clean. Make sure you do so once a week and change the filters as directed.

Most of this is just basic food hygiene stuff combined with what it’s like to be immunocompromised, but it’s always worth repeating in case someone didn’t know, but especially worth repeating right now with all our rules and regulating bodies going out the window 😞

[lilaccmilk]

Jealousy is a disease and he apparently has it chronically. You didn’t expect your boyfriend to get so jealous after seeing you talking with a man who’s obviously hitting on you. Can you really blame him? You’re so pretty and so fucking kind, these idiots think that they have a chance with you. He’ll deal with that guy later but you, oh you should’ve known better. So it’s not really a surprise when you’re laid on your stomach, on your bed and his dick is pistoning into you. In and out, In and out, In and– yeah you get it.

He is so painfully big that everytime he thrusts in he’s kissing your cervix, nudging you deliciously, and you’re so far gone. If he couldn’t guess by your wetness leaking onto his dick, or the way you had him in a vice like grip, then the mindless babbles of ‘sorry’ or ‘more’ definitely gave it away. He’s stretching you out so good, you consider riling him up more often. And his words….god his words.

“C’mon pretty, you can take it yeah? You were being all cheery with that fucking guy, use your big girl words yeah?” As you both reach your climax together, you feel ropes of white hot cum filling you up.

You think he’d stop, but oh, you’re sorely mistaken, he keeps on thrusting, somehow more eagerly now, you’re overstimulated and you try to put some distance between you, but he just pulls you back onto him, “Tsk tsk tsk, no. You don’t get to run away not after your little stunt tonight.” He increases his pace as hot tears roll down your cheeks out of pleasure. There’s a creamy white ring forming around the base of his cock as he drives in and out of you. Wet squelches filling up the room and he is hellbent on making sure you know you’re his. “She’s talkative tonight isn’t she?” he starts, and you know he’s talking about your pussy, “at least she knows, how to talk to the right people.” And he doesn’t stop. Not until he has one more, and another and another and “One more please pretty? You can do it f’me yeah?” and all you can do is nod.

──────────────────

Gojo Satoru, Yuji Itadori, Ino Takuma, Ken Sato, Theodore Nott, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, Miguel O’Hara, Sylus (L&DS) + your favs!

Let me show you how proud I am to be yours / Leave this dress a mess on the floor - Good for You // A$AP Rocky & Selena Gomez

[mostly-imagines]

Motion Sickness

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason makes you cry after a fight

warnings: angst with comfort

“Jason—”

He waves you off immediately, “No, I’m not your problem, okay?”

Your arms drop, “You’re not a problem at all, that’s not what I’m saying—”

“Then what are you saying?” he challenges. 

You almost bite your tongue but then decide against it, “I’m saying you’re being an asshole right now just because I tried to help.”

He’s angry and you’re someplace in between desperate and tired, but you push on, hoping you’ll be able to solve this without an extended argument. To little avail though, apparently. 

A tense exhale from him, “I don’t need your help, I don’t know how I can make it any clearer.”

“It’s not about needing it—”

“No, it’s about wanting it. I don’t want your fucking help,” he snaps. “I’m grown, I can handle my problems myself.”

You drop your hands to your sides, “Then what am I doing here, Jason?”

“I don’t know!” You can literally see the regret sweep over his face but he lets the moment consume him and the words linger anyways. 

You know he doesn’t always think before he talks, especially when he’s mad. You’ve seen it plenty when he’s fighting with his family. This is the first time it’s shown up with you though, and while you know it’s not coming from a place of genuinity—it still really fucking stung. 

Far from being in your control, tears slip out, more at his tone than his words, and you remove your gaze in favor of the linoleum tiles. He says nothing as you start to cry, which only makes the heat of the moment worsen. 

“Okay,” You take a deep breath, pursing your lips. “You need to go away.”

There’s a long, hard moment of silence, but ultimately he doesn’t fight you on it, only exhales harshly and slams the door on his way out.

The resulting reverberation of the apartment has your shoulders shaking, tears falling onto your shirt.  

You and Jason don’t fight often but when you do it’s usually about insecurities and fears coming forward. He’d been having a bad night to start with and all you wanted to do was make him feel better but he wasn’t willing to talk to you or let you do anything for him. He gets selfishly selfless like that, but you know why.

You know him, in and out. You could’ve anticipated this—you should’ve. You should’ve approached the topic more sensitively. And it’s not his fault, his life has taught him that it’s safer to believe that other people don’t have his best interest. You know that. 

Yeah, you know him in and out, but he knows you in and out, too. He knows you’ve shown him nothing but kindness and generosity since the day you met and you’ve reinforced a thousand times how safe you are for him. But if he still can’t trust you to care about him, then what are you doing here?

You let yourself fall back onto the arm of the couch, huffing in defeat. 

It’s nearing two in the morning when Dick awakens, the bandages across his abdomen digging into his skin uncomfortably. He sits up, bedsheet pooling around his waist. The ache of the bruising pushes him towards his old bedroom door before he’s even fully coherent, narrowly missing shouldering the door frame as he passes through.

He’s still half asleep as he thumps down the staircase, cold hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He’s so out of it in his blind search for painkillers, that he nearly misses the large shadowed figure huddled up on the couch.

Dick stills, blinking warily.

“What’re you doing here?”

His younger brother says nothing, only continues to stew in the shadows, staring at the rug.

As his eyes adjust, Dick takes in his appearance: messy hair, tired eyes, only clad in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

He rubs his eyes, approaching with measured steps, “What happened?”

Jason remains silent for a long minute before grunting out, “Got in a fight.”

Dick nods slowly, shuffling forward a little more to sit on the far end of the couch. 

“What’d you do?”

Jason doesn’t have it in him to comment on how his brother immediately knew he was the issue. It just makes the entire thing hurt even worse. Instead, he tells the truth. 

“Be myself.”

Dick says nothing.

When the silence persists, Jason elaborates, even though it’s the last thing he wants to admit to.

“I made her cry,” he says, voice below even a whisper. He hates it and he hates himself for leaving you when he knew he’d hurt you.

Dick nods, not saying anything. He’s definitely been there before, though he’s not nearly as volatile as Jason can be, so he can imagine how this likely played out. In any case, Jason has never responded well to being pushed to talk about his feelings so Dick lets him get there in his own time.

He’s half expecting to end up with no results at all, but Jason pipes up after a minute, voice broken.

“I don’t know what she wants me to do,” he rasps.

Dick takes a deep breath, adjusting his posture. “When girls are mad you give them space but when they’re sad you definitely don’t. Is she sad or mad?”

Jason exhales desperately.

“Both, I think.”

Dick nods, understanding.

“Then go home.”

Jason shakes his head, defeated. “She told me to leave. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“What did you say?”

He huffs, not wanting to bring the memory back up. “I basically told her to fuck off.”

“Yeah,” Dick drawls. “I wouldn’t let that simmer.”

Jason’s head snaps over to him. “She’ll break up with me?”

“No, I don’t—” Dick pauses, thinking over his words. “It’ll be fine. Just go home.”

Despite taking the long route on the way to the manor, Jason sped back home on his bike, now unwilling to leave you alone for another second longer than he had to. 

He creeps through the front door of your apartment, proud and only a little hurt that you’d remembered to lock it. 

The apartment’s mostly quiet, nothing but a lamp lighting up the front half. He can hear the shower running from where he stands, the waterfall noise awfully muffled from behind the closed bathroom door.

He bolts the door behind him, pushing forward towards the hallway. He approaches the bathroom door, noticing how there’s no light flooding out from underneath.

“Baby?” Jason calls it out quietly, like he’s scared to commit to alerting you of his presence.

He hears no response, but he knows you heard him. He knows you heard him in the same way that he knows you’re sitting on the shower floor, curled in on yourself under the sensory relief that the pouring water brings. He doesn’t know how, he just does.

So he leans against the door, listening closely, and calls out again, “Can I come in?”

There’s a solid ten seconds of silence before you respond, just barely audible over the cascade of water.

“Not right now.”

Your volume has him wincing, saddened and embarrassed that he’s the one that made you feel like this.

He reluctantly walks back to the bedroom with heavy shoulders, thudding his weight down on the mattress. He sits half folded over himself for the next ten minutes, thinking only of you, sitting alone in the shower with your thoughts.

He perks up considerably when he hears the water shut off, and after several long minutes, you emerge from the bathroom, towel wrapped around your middle.

He stands up when you enter the bedroom, hands stiff and awkward at his sides. You barely look at him, having trouble willing yourself to do more than glance. 

Your eyes fall downward, your lips pursing. You instinctually move to clutching the towel tighter around you, more than anything because you don’t know what to do with your hands. 

It makes his heart break to see you so out of comfort around him—because of him—so he gives you the benefit of privacy, turning around so you can get dressed. It kills him to do it, makes him feel like he’s just some stranger in your life rather than him. But he supposes that he deserves to feel like that right now. 

Whether or not you wanted him to turn around goes unsaid, he can only hear the quiet shuffling of you putting clothes on.

He waits until the movement stops, after he hears the squeak of the bed springs and the faint sound of the sheets being pulled up.

He turns around again with a silent sigh, taking in the sight of you laying in bed, back turned to him.  

He approaches slowly, stopping just before his knees hit the mattress. He notices quickly that the t-shirt you’d chosen was one of your own. He frowns.  

“Sweetheart. Can I touch you?” His voice is soft and low, like he’s trying to coax you back out to him.

It takes a long few moments, but you nod.

He sits down on the bed, still hesitant to go through with it.

“Will you turn over?”

An even longer pause and you’re flipping over to face him. You don’t make eye contact, only look blankly past him. Your blinks are heavy, and even in the dark, he can see that your eyes are still bloodshot. 

He brushes your hair back, his fingers feather-light against you, like he’s scared to touch you too harshly. Like he’s touching porcelain.

He lets you hold the silence for a while, reasoning with himself that you’ll talk when you’re ready.

You let it go on longer than he’d hoped, past the point of him knowing what to do with it. He’d hoped you’d yell at him. He can take that, he knows he can. He can see plainly that you’re thinking deeply and wants more than anything for you to say it, scream it if you have to. 

He knows he deserves it and he frankly would take anything over the silence. But then again, he doesn’t deserve the reprieve, does he? No, but he’s not strong enough to deny himself the chance to hear your voice.

“Say it,” he urges. “Please.”

Your fingers tap against the bed sheets for a moment before you sit up, almost defeated. 

You face him, taking a breath and relenting. “I don’t like that you said that to me.”

He nods, brow deep. “Me neither.”

Your shoulders sag at that, and you feel stuck in the moment. You feel guilty too but you don’t know if you should. He didn’t mean it, you know that, and they weren’t his words, really. But the snap of his voice when he’d said it and the look on his face—it made you feel terrible. It still does.

You look awkwardly to the left, feeling heavily spectated by him and so hyper-conscious of all of your movements. The downturn of your lips gives way to burning in your eyes and before you can do anything about it, tears are spilling out. 

Jason sees it immediately, his head lulling helplessly. 

“Oh, baby. Please don’t cry, please.”

But that only makes it worse, the tears falling faster and heavier at his soft tone.

He forgoes asking permission and pulls you directly into his chest, a firm hand on the back of your head. It’s what you needed though, to be close to him right now.

“I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry, baby—” he murmurs against your hair, pressing a rough kiss as he holds you tighter.

You shake your head, sniffling. “It’s okay, Jay.”

“No, it’s not.”

That sentiment lingers for several minutes, as he holds you cheek to chest and rubs soothing patterns into your hair.

It’s not long before you’re able to fully relax against him, his touch feeling nothing short of therapeutic. Your breathing eventually levels out back to baseline and your thoughts start to find peace amongst themselves.

When you’re ready, you sit back from him, letting him see your face again.                    

He visibly winces as he scans over the tears on your cheeks, how they’re starting to stain.

You’re still upset, a little, but not nearly as much as you’re sure your face is conveying. 

“It’s okay,” you tell him, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.

He shakes his head, “If I ever say something like that to you again, hit me. I’m serious.”

You drop your hand onto your lap, tilting your head at him with a serious look. “I’m not going to hit you—”

“Then break up with me. Don’t ever let somebody talk to you like that, especially not me.”

His voice is hard and you can tell the impact of his words have every bit of weight intended.

Your mouth closes and you waver unsure of where to go with that. Your gaze falls down to where your hands lie discarded on your lap and there’s a palpable shift to the air in the room.

“Hey.” He pushes your chin up to make you look at him, “Listen to me. You’re the love of my life. You hear me? I’m supposed to take care of you, make you happy. I don’t…I can’t talk to you like that. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Your eyes flicker back and forth across each others and you can see the genuine sincerity etched plainly across his face.

He processes the comprehension across your own before his jaw tenses for a moment and he adds, “Nobody’s gonna talk to you like that, much less me. Yes?” 

You start to nod slowly and he mirrors you until he’s convinced of your belief in the statement. 

He rubs calm circles into your thighs as you both sit with the conversation, the light sounds of each others breaths the only sound heard. This silence isn’t the same as it was before though, it’s safer, more comfortable. It’s familiar, if not weighted.  

“I love you,” you tell him quietly.

His eyebrows furrow like his heart was just shattered. 

“I love you too, baby. So much.”

🦟 if you don't reblog things i'm actively sending bad vibes your way 🦟 and maybe also a plague

[novaimperia]

★ 3am frustrations with streamer!choso

“‘take…your…shirt off.’ what? no, guys, please stop asking me to remove my clothes. for the last time, they’re staying on.”

on balance, choso would say he enjoys streaming – he essentially gets paid to do the things he does for free such as play video games, eat copious amounts of ramen whilst watching true crime documentaries, and talk about his day. the freedom to choose his own schedule and make decisions for himself is priceless. especially since he’s got to prioritise his classes and see his friends and family. 

it took a while to get to where he is now. at first, when he was set on just displaying whatever game he was playing, he had only one or two viewers. but after an accidental click and a flash of pig-tails, face tattoo, piercings, of a shirtless torso, hard and sharp abs, the viewership skyrocketed. comically so. now, he earns enough to be able to retire. all his friends respect and envy him. one must admit he is living the life.

if he had to pick a flaw in this whole thing, however, he might hesitantly and reluctantly point to his followers. they’re both the greatest part about his side gig, what with their never ending jokes and support, as well as the worst; there’s no telling what they’ll suggest in his comments next. 

“chat, stop asking me to go through my underwear drawer. no, they don’t have holes in them.” he squints at the screen and makes a frustrated sound. “i am not going to twerk while naked. guys, what the hell is wrong with you all? just tell me how i can defeat this boss so i can get the materials to level up my venti…oh, thanks, ‘chosoismypuppyboy69.’ i’ll be sure to change my team then.”

sighing, he keeps tapping on the keys, spamming with no rhyme or reason. for a computing student, he’s not very good at these games, but it sure does entertain the twenty thousand people watching at 3am. seeing him fumbling about, flinching at the most harmless of things, and constantly dying is apparently what they’d rather do than get some good night’s sleep. not that he’s any better. the man hasn’t had a full eight hours sleep in years. or maybe ever.

“‘do you tickle your prostate?’ what even is that? alright, that’s enough for tonight. i can’t deal with you guys; you’re like gremlins – yeah, i know what that is; i’ve watched the movie. yeah, obviously i watched it with my girlfriend; you know i don’t watch scary movies on my own. it is scary! i am not going to debate which movies are scary or not. what the hell? stop asking me to flash my dick piercing, oh my god. i regret ever telling you guys about that. okay okay. night, assholes.”

and with that, he logs off and leans back into his chair, staring up at the sky and wondering if the thousands he earned in just a few hours was worth it. 

then, his hips jerk up and a dog-like whine leaves his lips. 

“aw, cho…are they being annoying again?” 

he looks down. the sight of you kneeling between his spread legs, mouthing at his throbbing cock like the cum leaking from his piss slit is ice cream and you’re soaked with the sweat a hot summer’s day brings. ring-clad, his hand falls on top of your head, petting to both push you off and keep you there. “y-yeah, they’re the worst. they never know when to quit. i can’t believe you -ah fuck don’t suck so hard- you stayed there the whole time.”

you shrug, fingers leaving the shadows cast by the desk, flying up into the air and landing on his awaiting, parted lips which sloppily suckles at the sweet juices dripping down your digits. “mmm, such a good boy…how could i possibly leave you to fend for yourself with those horny vultures? who else was going to listen and send you the answers to your questions, huh, cho?”

big hands grip the armrests. the chair rattle with the shaking of his hips. balls squeeze painfully tight whilst choso licks his bottom lip, searching for any remnants of your taste and moaning loud and breathlessly at the feel of your hot, wet mouth engulfing his entire quivering length. grunting, he asks, “did you h-have to choose that username though? it’s -hmm i’m close baby- it’s embarrassing being called a p-puppy boy.”

“you aren’t my puppy boy?”

“no. i am.”

smirking, you blow a kiss up at him. slowly and with an extra amount of mischievous intent, you drawl, “then prove it, cho-cho.”

in this moment, as he stares with lidded eyes at the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen, the kind that sports power that can bring him to his knees at the snap of a finger, he realises he was wrong – his followers aren’t the worst. you are. because they ask knowing they’ll never get what they want whereas you ask knowing you will. you never hesitate to wield that sword, like lady justice, except instead of scales it’s his balls you hold in your spare hand. 

and who is he to argue?

so, with a blush on his cheeks, he shyly follows orders. 

“bark…b-bark…now -ahem- please make me cum. making me hold it in for hours is mean…bark.”

[midniqhtt]

ᯓ ⚡︎ robert ‘bob’ reynolds

masterlist • marvel • 06/09/25

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs II gif credit - @/castledevil

here are some bob reynolds stories i’ve read, loved, and reblogged. all the admiration for the writers who share their talent so generously. please be sure to read the warnings on each fic. and if you enjoy them, let the author know by a comment, reblog, or both! ♡

⭑.ᐟ xerox pt2 pt3 I @ichorai

you had one last job before you were free. no more splitting, no more deaths. unfortunately, that job seemed to rope in four other assassins and a... a man in hospital-wear?

⭑.ᐟ the fling I @sacredsorceress

bob finds out that you had a one night stand with bucky a few years earlier and feelings bubble to the surface.

⭑.ᐟ therapy I @/sacredsorceress

⭑.ᐟ mocha I @/sacredsorceress

yelena decides to make it her mission to set up bob with her close friend.

⭑.ᐟ lifeline I @/sacredsorceress

When you sleep, the Void visits you. This time, you can't hold your worries in and Bob is there to save the day.

⭑.ᐟ let go I @sunskisser

bob avoided you, and you had no idea why — till the night you help him out of a frenzy.

⭑.ᐟ the woes of bowties and missing puzzle pieces I @websterss

One day Bob having a rough day and void jumps out, creating quite a chaos. She tries to talk him through it but void being void thinking she’s a liability for them, he “consumed” her. Few moments after that he turns back into Bob & other people came back from void but not her.

⭑.ᐟ the hand that’s forced pt2 I @/websterss

You hadn't meant to get attached to Bob, much less fall in love with him. You hadn't meant for things to slip out right from underneath your grasp. Out of your control, much like Valentina holding your love for one another over your heads.

⭑.ᐟ i see you I @cocastyle

⭑.ᐟ sneaking around I @callsign-swan

Bob doesn't mean to be sneaking around. But he can't help it. He's got a secret, and he wants to keep it that way. Too bad he's best friends with Yelena Belova.

⭑.ᐟ alone together I @/callsign-swan

For the last few years, Tony's daughter has been living out in the tower basement. She doesn't realise when Valentina buys the tower, not until she's being choked out by Sentry (turns out Sentry is a really sweet guy called Bob, who knew?)

⭑.ᐟ picnic day I @roanofarcc

when rain threatens a thunderbolts team bonding outing, per the request of Alexei, they turn to their resident weather-controlling team member to save their plans. 

⭑.ᐟ a bunch of teenagers I @mallory524

Bob has really started to like you, but he assumes you don’t feel the same way about him. You do though, and everyone seems to know that except Bob… and apparently also Walker, who really thought he had a chance

⭑.ᐟ going out I @/mallory524

You and Bob finally spend some time together one morning, but you find yourself rushing to defend him when he gets overwhelmed and people aren’t kind to him.

⭑.ᐟ in my arms I @woantohae

The Thunderbolts are constantly on missions, busy trying to do good and save whoever they can. One of them was Bob Reynolds, the defenseless yet powerful man who is part of this team and family. However, he doesn't participate in these missions so he can continue practicing controlling his powers. Despite telling them he's capable, the team prefers to give him more time to get used to them, until one mission, when a member of the team is injured. And all Bob can think about is the fury he feels when he hears Y/N being hurt. And how much he wants revenge on whoever did it.

⭑.ᐟ shadow I @/woantohae

Y/N loved the darkness because she could see the stars better. Void does everything in his power to make sure she can gaze at the starry sky, even if it means turning everything into darkness.

⭑.ᐟ only you I @/woantohae

Bob's dark, evil entity, The Void, appears when you least expect it. The rest of the team must be prepared to confront him and his prevailing malice. However, there is only one person on the team with whom he has a soft spot. And it's her.

⭑.ᐟ like real people do I @froggibus

Bob seeks you out following a bad dream

⭑.ᐟ misunderstanding I @strkly

you and bob were inseparable. until he begins to ignore you and you have no clue why. when you’re injured after a mission gone wrong you’re finally able to find out why.

⭑.ᐟ darling I @fireinmoonshot

You always call Bob darling in private... until you accidentally slip up and use the nickname in front of the rest of the Thunderbolts.

⭑.ᐟ unreal I @/fireinmoonshot

Bob offers for you to share his room while your room in the Watch Tower gets renovated... there's just one problem – he didn't think about the fact that he'd have to share a bed with you.

⭑.ᐟ control I @/fireinmoonshot

Bob always waits for you to come back from missions, but when you don't come back one day, his powers start to get a little out of hand.

⭑.ᐟ lethal touch I @hearts4johnwick

while training, all goes well until a move bob makes changes your concentration as you begin to relive your worst memory.

⭑.ᐟ stay with me pt2 I @scarletmika

Bob wants to feel useful, to truly be part of the team, but the others don't think he's ready. You take it upon yourself to teach him control, to guide him through. But mistakes will be made, and it might not be possible to keep the darkness from creeping back in once more.

⭑.ᐟ destiny or not I @/scarletmika

As The Darkhold foretold Wanda Maximoff's destiny, The Book of Vishanti foretold your own. You just didn't know how much of that destiny was intertwined with Bob Reynolds, until the day you met him in the vault.

⭑.ᐟ peace and quiet I @/scarletmika

Sometimes the tower is too loud, and Bob can feel himself getting overwhelmed. He's always found comfort with you, in your room, where he can find peace and quiet whenever he needs it. And you'll never turn him away, finding the same comfort in him.

⭑.ᐟ request I @lovebugism

you like taking care of bob on his bad days. he isn't quite sure why

⭑.ᐟ stitches I @skeltnwrites

Bob learns how to stitch a wound

⭑.ᐟ plainclothes man pt2 I @em1i2a3

Everyone at the compound knows Bob has a massive crush on you–except you.

⭑.ᐟ carry the zero I @/em1i2a3

You and Bob are sharing a room while the Avengers Compound is under renovations, which brings on a slew of new things to learn about one another.

⭑.ᐟ cherry waves I @/em1i2a3

You’ve been sick for a few days, so while the rest of the team goes out to do a recon mission, you’re on your own watching over Bob. One morning he comes to your room with a weird request.

⭑.ᐟ sailor song pt2 pt3 I @/em1i2a3

Bob is in love with you, but you can’t be what he wants.

⭑.ᐟ i wanna get lost with you I @/em1i2a3

After a rough night, you find yourself with a rare day off–the one that you take on the same day every year in memoriam for the fallen. So you head into the city to spend your feelings away on the only thing that makes sense to you: gifts for your favourite team of scrappy anti-heros…And Bob.

⭑.ᐟ it’s you i’m thinking of I @/em1i2a3

Valentina organizes a PR event for the Thunderbolts and during the event Bob realizes that he may want more out of life than just saving the world.

⭑.ᐟ signs I @/em1i2a3

You haven’t been able to sleep for the past four days, you’ve tried everything in the book, but tonight Bob has come to your room to offer you some help.

⭑.ᐟ the greatest light is the greatest shade I @/em1i2a3

You return back to the compound a week early from an initial two week-long mission, only to find Bob asleep in your bed.

⭑.ᐟ test drive pt2 I @/em1i2a3

You have a late night encounter with The Void

⭑.ᐟ a little bit of jam I @violetrainbow412-blog

⭑.ᐟ archives room I @owastie

you’re tasked with searching through the archives room to find some information on a new threat

⭑.ᐟ oh, scaling all your shadows I @swordgrace

plagued by nightmares, bob takes comfort in the one person who’s pulled him from the shadows time and time again — you.

⭑.ᐟ so high school I @pagesfromthevoid

⭑.ᐟ walk through darkness I @/pagesfromthevoid

⭑.ᐟ unfamiliar feeling I @ang3ltine

Bob was asleep for God knows how long, now that he has the chance at a better life. Who better to show him than you?

⭑.ᐟ admiration I @/ang3ltine

Being recruited by Valentina as part of the new Avengers (z) team was never part of your list of agendas. Yet here you were, doting on an awkward brunette.

⭑.ᐟ look what the cat dragged in I @eyelessfaces

you get bob a cat for emotional support; the cat adopts you as parents and is undeniably bound to bring the two of you closer.

⭑.ᐟ how to kiss I @worstghost

teaching bob how to kiss and accidentally slipping into a 20 minute makeout session

⭑.ᐟ the good side I @cosmictheo

bob loves you so much that he slowly begins to transform into a house-husband for you. and he loves it.

⭑.ᐟ heavenly I @/cosmictheo

it's the first time you're wearing your new suit as an official (new) avenger and bob is a little too excited about it.

⭑.ᐟ fur-evermore I @ofstarsandvibranium

Because you're Bucky's assistant, you, and your service dog, Juniper, head to the tower to give him some files as well as meet the rest of his new team...including a very cute and slightly awkward, Bob.

⭑.ᐟ mr. oblivious I @/ofstarsandvibranium

Bob is sometimes oblivious to the fact that people find him attractive and/or like him. One of those people includes you.

⭑.ᐟ i dream of you even when awake I @deakyjoe

Your gift makes sleep difficult. Luckily, Bob is there to guide you through it.

⭑.ᐟ something special I @blank-potato

You’ve been the live-in doctor at Avengers Tower for a year, and Bob wants to get you something special to celebrate. Unbeknownst to him, that something special turns out to be a sex plant. 

⭑.ᐟ loving you is easy pt2 I @/blank-potato

You and Bob are indifferent to each other, never seeming to mesh. But when you lose your memory, something new blooms between the two of you.

⭑.ᐟ drabble I @undyingdecay

⭑.ᐟ peace in the darkness pt2 I @theonewiththefanfics

Bob knows Y/N isn't one to go back on her words. So when she doesn't show up to go through with their plans, he starts to worry. Luckily for him, Yelena knows how to break-and-enter. And doesn't mind invading her personal space.

⭑.ᐟ the ghost i left behind pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 I @brookghaib-blog

Y/N and Bob had a life before he disappear, full of love, hope, and a lot of chaos, but they managed each other, she was the only one who truly could make him avoid the void inside his mind. How could he turn his only light into a shadow in his mind ?

⭑.ᐟ a pleasant inconvenience I @little-miss-dilf-lover

your cat likes to run out of your apartment when you return home. today she makes it further than usual but is luckily stopped by a stranger.

⭑.ᐟ run hot I @moon-fics

The heating in the tower has broken in the middle of winter. This leaves everyone trying to find warmth any way possible.

⭑.ᐟ accident I @upl0aded

you and bob had always been perfect, you kept him happy and he kept you satisfied. but what happens when a buried memory accidentally gets revived?

⭑.ᐟ truth will set you free I @sergeantbuckybarnes

You are injected with a truth serum during a mission, and when you return to the Watchtower, you must avoid Bob in order not to spill your feelings for him, but this causes Bob to believe he has done something to upset you.

⭑.ᐟ gladiator I @trainer-from-unova

welcome to the party, say hi to everybody. you're valentina's daughter and you're late to the party in honour of her new puppet.

⭑.ᐟ i can’t have what i want (but neither can you) I @honeyatsu

You don't know how to explain the feeling when you see Bob and Yelena together. You don't understand it, and you don't like it. You think maybe you're not a people person, maybe you're better off being on your own. You take matters to solve this problem your own way, but everyone doesn't agree with your logic.

⭑.ᐟ i like it better I @sl-ut

every member of the thunderbolts* are struggling with having friends for the first time in… ever, for the most part. the team is shocked to find out that, for some reason, bob is having the easiest time with it. aka, four times the team notices a budding romance, and one time they all realize they’re late to the conclusion.

⭑.ᐟ the complete knock pt2 I @sunsburns

you’re only here to try and understand why bucky’s suddenly gone off the rails and joined a new team, leaving you, sam and joaquín in radio silence. the last thing you expected was to find comfort in a stranger. a kind stranger named bob.

⭑.ᐟ second nature I @bruisedboys

bob tells you he’s never been kissed. you decide to change that.

⭑.ᐟ request I @gay-dorito-dust

⭑.ᐟ charcoal smudges I @cryptidcasanova

Bob thinks he's in control. At least…until you get involved. 

⭑.ᐟ short circuit I @honeybadgerwritings

Bob helps Y/N train to control her powers under pressure. But when frustration gets the better of her, their sparring session turns tense.

[littledes1re]

Neighbours help pt. 2

Pairing: Old!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summery: After this thing happened between you and your neighbour, you have been avoiding him at all costs. But one night he comes into your apartment, wanting to fix something he thinks it’s broken so he can see you again. Aka..he finally fucks reader😌

Warnings: 18+, Angst, praise kink, overstimulation, size kink, squirting, slight breeding kink, slight daddy kink, fingering, big cock joel, pinv, pet names, big age gap! (reader is 25-26ish and Joel is 60), switching between POV’s, hair pulling, Dom/Sub undertones, Mean!joel, but also Soft, joel mocks reader, really sensitive reader, darcyphilia, kinda naive reader, kinda pervy!joel

A/N: I didn’t think pt.1 was gonna do so well that people would ask me for pt.2🤭 i’m so thankful, but especially to @keseqna because they gave me the idea!! <3 I don’t know how to do a Masterlist so all my blurbs/writings are under #des1rewrites !!

“…Not want your annoying little ass anywhere near my apartment anymore, s‘that clear?“

This sentence has been stuck in your head, repeating over and over since the last interaction you had with joel. But not just in your head but somehow also in your heart too. Like a sharp blade, stinging you constantly, whenever it gets quiet and you remember what happened. Whenever you see him on the apartments hallway, completely ignoring you, sting. The times you come on your fingers, with that scenario in mind, imagining his hands gripping your skin, the texture of his jeans underneath you, the sweet pet names, sting. Because you bring to mind how he mocked you, how he looked at you and how he didn’t want to have anything to do with you after that.

You felt embarrassed, ashamed and hurt. First, you didn’t know what got into you on that day. Second, it would’ve been much more easier to handle this guilt afterwards if he was young and wasn’t living right next to you. His age turned you on, the roughness of it all. The manliness that comes with handling everything himself, demanding personality and the stern nature. But he was much older than you and you knew all the risks that came with dating much older men.

You didn’t know yourself like this. Being struck by a man, completely forgetting morals and self respect and just going dumb, while he mocks you. And then riding his thigh because he showed you one second of his soft side. Maybe he was just hurt? Maybe he was just joking around?

You slapped your hands on top of your face, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to overcome the sense of embarrassment. Apparently you were too naive and you also knew that you still wanted him. That you could not turn it off, you could not just ignore the throbbing between your legs, you could not ignore the attraction you felt for this man. He didn’t want you, he made it clear. But gave you a taste of what to except from him and left you with longing for more.

—

Joel wasn’t doing well either. The guilt was butchering him, it was unbearable and the fact that you really stopped with all of your annoying greetings and random visits made his stomach turn just more. Hell, they were not annoying. He was just being dramatic, messing with you. He knows that he is grumpy, he knows that he is annoyed with everything and maybe not the most nice human being but how could he? Since he lost his daughter he could not feel an ounce of happiness. He locked himself up from the rest of the world and let nobody in, wanting to protect his already broken heart and just live his life. In peace.

You come here with all that happy and quirky attitude, caring for him and being all joyful. He didn’t need that right now, he wasn’t— heck, he wasn’t ready for that. But deep down he knew that you didn’t deserve that. Even if the mean behaviour got you gushing like a faucet, it okey for him to call you annoying and that he didn’t want you near his apartment again. You are living alone, what if you need something? Advice, an open ear? Food? Something he has to fix? …to cum again?

Whenever he saw you he excepted a little ‘hello’, a smile, a something. Your face lacked any expression, your body moving fast to open the door and get in before he has to stand there with you. After that he realised what kind of damage he had done.

The day he let you ride his thigh was unusual, he was going to fix the damn fridge and would be out of there in 10 minutes. Then he saw how restless you were, leg shaking, eyes glassy and thighs clenching. Poor girl, he thought to himself. Was him sitting there and trying to read the instructions making you this restless? It was surprising, but nothing that he wasn’t excepting as he always saw how you looked at his arms or torso whenever he was outside, packing his car or when you visit him. He knew you needed to get it out of your system once in a lifetime to leave him alone, but what if he needed it also?

It was also crystal clear that he wanted you. I mean who wouldn’t? Pretty thing like you, swaying your hips from left to right, always trying your best to have manners and be nice, sweet doe eyes and a beautiful smile. He felt guilty, he was old, too old to be in your business, he would ruin you. It was killing him getting off on his fist with the thought of you and only you.

It was the middle of the night and you woke up at 2am, feeling this need and throbbing between your legs. Again. Your sleepy state of mind didn’t do much of thinking as you slide your hands down to your panties and started to rub your clit, eyes closed and lazily. The wetness spreading through your folds as you tiredly moan into the quiet room. Hips bucking in the need of wanting something more, something that leaves you as satisfied as the day your fridge broke. Joel.

You finger rubs faster with every breath that you take, the squelching sounds of your wetness getting more and more louder, just like your moans. Flashes of joel come up in your mind, the beautiful brown eyes, big strong shoulders, his rough hands and beautiful hair coaxing you into your orgasm as you start to cry out his name into the night until— a knock on your door.

You sit up as quick as you never did, the tiredness long gone, you wipe your fingers on your panties. Eyes widen you ask yourself who the hell it that is knocking on your door at this hour. Your pulse still high from your stolen orgasm going higher because now you are kinda scared.

Standing up slowly, you move to your door. Gently listening, trying to figure out if there was really someone standing there. But you could hear nothing.

You opened the door slowly, peeking trough the small gap and seeing him standing there. Hands on his hip, jacket and jeans still on. You swallowed, what the hell was he doing here in the middle of the night? Why was he still wearing his work clothes and looked like he was sweating? Your eyes widened just more, he was the last person you excepted on your doorstep.

“Open up, girl. S’just me.” He muttered, clearly trying to keep his voice down, not wanting to disturb your other neighbours.

“What do you want?” You whispered quickly through the gap, earning a sigh, his hand running through his curls.

“Just need to talk about something, open up. It’s important”

The confusion grew just bigger and bigger while in the pit of your stomach fear start to spread. Did he hear you?

you slowly backed off and opened the door for him. His huge frame didn’t change a bit, he just looked at you, the familiar brown eyes scanning you from head to toe. Your cheeks flushed, realising what you are wearing. The thin white silky nightgown you just bought, under that just your panties.

His breath hitched as he saw you like this. Your head was looking down, your arms nervously playing with the hem of your gown and if the moon didn’t shine trough the window, thank god it did, he couldn’t see your perked up nipples and the little panties you wore, the dress just barely covering your thighs. He was about to lose his god damn mind.

You looked up to him baffled, how he had the audacity to come to your apartment after telling you that he didn’t want you anywhere near his apartment.

“Uh, how ya’ doin’ girl?” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice. He looked around the room, his eyes always falling to your body, but looking quickly away but you noticed.

“What do you mean how am I doing? I’m trying to sleep?” You exclaimed, clearly getting frustrated and unpatient, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Yea, yea. You’re right. Disturbed ya huh?”

What the hell was he even talking about? Was he drunk? Did he really hear you? your nervous system almost falling apart at the thought of him hearing you moan his name at the night and him coming to you to ask you about it.

“Steve called me. Said there is something goin’ on with the sinks and the pipes, need’ta have a look.”

Steve, the landlord of this apartment complex. Something about this story wasn’t adding up, he looked so unsure, looking trough the room, avoiding your eyes.

“Steve? Called you? In the middle of the night?” You asked suspicious, his eyes landing on you.

“Yes, in the middle of the night because it’s an emergency, girl. Now if you would let me just quickly look into your bathrooms sink, I will leave the princess alone so she can get her beauty sleep.” His voice was rough, like he just woke up from his sleep. And that tone, annoyed and acting like he knows it all, no one should contradict him. So stubborn.

You looked at him up and down, something still wasn’t adding up. This was sure not a very logical story. Why couldn’t steve just call you? Why was he sending joel? And whatever is going on with the pipes, you definitely didn’t notice anything different while doing your nightly routine. So what was all of this about?

He sighed.

“Girl, listen. Ain’t happy about being here too, but I gotta look into this, promise I leave as soon as possible”

Deep down you were somehow happy to that he was here. His presence felt warm and the scolding and annoying tone felt familiar, like nothing happened between you two. But of course your body was betraying you once more, the aching and stolen orgasm from earlier was still present. Like an uninvited guest, pushing you further and further into an uncomfortable situation that you didn’t want to repeat again.

“Okey, come with me”

Joel didn’t know what the hell he was doing here. Not a single brain cell acted with caution in this scenario, not one thought came into his mind that told him it was a bad idea. He heard you moaning out his name.

Again.

He hears it every god damn night and it drives him absolutely mad. There is this little angel laying in her bed, desperately pushing her small fingers into her cunt, knowing it’s not enough, aching and begging for him and something more, for something bigger and something that full fills her completely. His cock throbbing like it hadn’t in the last 20 years, his heart aching, just wanting to be there and fill you to the brim, fuck you thoroughly and good just the way you deserve.

So he had enough, knocking on your door in the middle of the night like a mad man. His story dumb and not logical and if you were to ask a little more about that he probably would’ve run away in embarrassment. The sight of your small frame in that little tiny silk dress made it all worth it for him tho.

“Sorry, s’a mess in here. Not excepted any visitors.”

You stood there in your small bathroom, showing him your sink and he immediately got into his knees looking for the pipes underneath.

“S’okey. Not used to seeing something else anyways.” He chuckled but you didn’t smile nor did you make any expression because you were still mad at him.

He looked through the pipes and you looked at his board shoulders and back. But after a while it seemed to you like he didn’t know what he was doing. He just rolled the tubes around, inspecting them like they were showing signs of something wrong but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Agonising 5 minutes you stood there behind him, your back against your washing mashing and him still not doing anything but just inspecting and touching the pipes. You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?

He turns around, looks at your eyebrows pinched and his gaze fall on your body. The bathroom was well lit so now everything was on display, your gown being see through and the cold in the night making your nipples hard, the patch of wetness visible on your panties.

Joel was about the lose it. He clenched his jaw, his eyebrows furrowing just more, his mouth going dry and the bulge in his pants making him uncomfortable, he could no longer deny the fact that he just came here because he wanted to see you—see you and totally take care of you.

“Can hear ya always, y’know?”

Your heart dropped, goosebumps spread all over your body as you looked at him dumbfounded. Completely loss at words as he just chuckled at your reaction.

“The walls are thin, sweetheart.”

Warmth spreading across your panties, a little gush. Your cheeks heated and red, you looked down, embarrassment washing down on you. Not only he was aware of your attraction to him, but also the way he had an influence on you and your body. Like he knew it like the back of his hand, knew what buttons to push to make you silent pliant doll for him.

Apparently that’s why he was there and somehow, you were happy. Somehow the deep embarrassment was leaving slowly by slowly and you completely wanted to give yourself to him, let him take the lead and do whatever he wanted with you.

Joel stood up, his tall frame caging you. His rough hand slowly landing on your hip, squeezing the flesh and earning a yelp from you. His tobacco and whiskey tinted smell clouding your mind once more, the desperation transforming to need.

You looked up to him while his hand explored your body, squeezing there and there, landing on your tits, massaging them roughly while giving extra attention to your perked up nipples, gently pulling them and pinching them. Your head fell into his chest, whining at the feeling on your breasts. He cooed into the room.

“Poor fucking, baby. Poor baby, got you so fuckin’ needy. Yea, got you so fucking needy baby.”

You felt like crying at how much needy he got you. His hands left your tits, gently grabbing your neck, then your hair tugging at it, making you look up to him with glassy eyes and a pleading look.

This is what he wanted to see. This fucked out look, lips swollen, eyes glassy and full of desperation and he didn’t even do anything yet. So easy to get worked up, so responsive to his touch.

He gently neared his lips to yours, you eagerly connecting them, kissing them with a whine. He was caught off guard but figured it out as the kiss intensified, his hands still in your hair, he made a pony tail tugging at it whenever you became too desperate, nearly bitting his lips off.

As he pulled away, you whined, always whining for his touch and his guidance. He looked at you for a good moment before tugging again on your hair making it fall back, revealing your neck to him. He hungrily kissed every inch of your cleavage, sucking marks there and on your neck. The impatience was growing, as you started to move around too much he pulled your hair again and strategically put his knee between your legs.

“Fucking desperate. How the hell am I supposed to work with this huh? Fidgety little girl. What are you gonna do when I bounce you on my cock? Gonna break it in half hm?”

“Nuh uh” you cried out, his knee starting to rub your cunt again just like the day he wanted to fix your fridge. His hands were still tugging your hair as you slowly get off to his knee, him just fixated on you, eyebrows pinched, completely mesmerised by your pleasure.

“Nah baby. We gotta set some rules. You wanna keep doin’ that, i’ll leave you with nothing. It’s either listening to me or I have you unsatisfied crying in your bed because your little fingers are not enough for you to get off.”

You nodded instantly, pausing your movements on his knee and looking at him as he let your hair free and slowly moved to the strings of your gown. Letting them fall down your arms and revealing your tits to him. He immediately latched on to your left nipple sucking and biting while you were controlling yourself not to buck on his knee.

“You do what I say when I say it, we clear?” He asked, your tit leaving his mouth with a pop.

“Yes”

“Repeat it.”

“I do everything you say when you are saying it.” You obediently repeated him, looking into his darkened eyes waiting for him to answer.

But he had other plans.

You yelped out as he unexpectedly hooked two fingers into you. You couldn’t even comprehend in what time he pulled down your panties and slid his hands down there. He groaned as you harshly tugged on his arms, making him closer then he already is, pressing you more into the washing machine behind you.

His fingers made a squelching sound whenever he drew them out and plugged them back in. Silent moans leaving your mouth, his fingers way bigger than his. It was stretching you, such an unusual feeling, hitting just the right spots you didn’t even know their existence about.

Sure you had sexual encounters before but none of these people ever took their time to really pleasure you.

Joels hand was dripping with your juices, it soaked his fingers full but he didn’t stop thrusting them into your cunt, not even when you shook your head from side to side babbling something about toomuch t-toomuch.

His gaze never left yours as he fucked you open, sometimes scissoring and curling them in you.

“Shh, shh. That’s it. Crying on two fingers already, how are you gonna take my cock hm? Have to stretch you out properly.”

Your fists were weakly banging on his chest as your body moved up and down on his fingers, your hips sitting on top his leg and back against the machine behind you. Your tits gently moving along the thrusts, he enjoyed the show, his face smug and knew that the pleasure was unbearable for you.

He pressed the palm of his hand on your clit, gently stimulating it while your legs completely shook, your body gone limb as you cry out into the bathroom cumming all over his fingers. Joel’s fingers slowed down but still going in a good rhythm so you could ride out your orgasm properly.

Your breathing was still coming in quick, you laid your head on his chest and started to calm down.

“Talkin’ about too much. Little cunt s’gonna take more than that now, baby.”

“Mhm, please” you whined into his shirt, his fingers were still inside you, not moving, just gently feeling the pulsing and clenching of your cunt. The mess you made on his hand was still dripping down.

He took your hair into his fist again and tugged you back. It was hard for him to control himself when you looked like this, he didn’t even do much. One orgasm and you were trembling. Eyes red and swollen because you cried, cheeks still wet and mouth full of drool. What was he gonna do to you on his cock? Break you apart?

“Fucking hell, drooling and crying all over yourself. Look at ya. Pretty fucking girl” he kissed the your tears away, kissing your forehead, your chin and then your lips again. You lazily kissed him back, the energy and eagerness already slowed down with the release, you were floating.

You suddenly broke the kiss, crying out, feeling his fingers going in and out of your cunt again. He chuckled, tugging at your hair and pulling you into the kiss again. There was no time to think for you, he was overstimulating you every second. It was so sensitive that tears started to form in your eyes again.

“Mhph—please. Not again.” You whined shaking your head escaping his kiss.

He mockingly pouted at you, slowing down with his fingers.

“Gonna replace it with my cock and show you what to cry and pout about, hon. S’that what you want? Without proper stretching? Poor cunt would get all achy, baby.”

You wanted him to fuck you, truly. But at what state this was going, it would probably hurt a lot. So you listened to him and let him finger you again, your pussy clenching releasing gush after gush. You bit your lips as he started going faster and harder again, body moving up and down as you buried your face into his neck, now fully sobbing at the overwhelming stimulation.

“Just one more, c’mon angel. Cum on my fingers, show me you can take my cock”

You bit down his jacket, this one coming very tingly, stronger than the first one but more releasing, like a relief washing over you. You bucked your hips into his fingers, him holding you and sitting you down on the washing machine finally. With his other hand he rubbed your back up and down, while he slowed down with his pumping in your cunt.

“Atta girl, s’what i’m talking about. Always listening to me.”

He grazed over your little clit with his palm once, twice as you let the aftershocks of your orgasm settle in. You didn’t even notice when he picked you up and went to your bedroom.

He gently laid you down on your bed, your head completely clouded, legs spread as you burrowed your face into one of your pillows, humming.

“What a sight. Pretty girl on her pretty bed, swollen wet cunt on display, clenching on nothing.”

Joel took his jacket off while speaking, then his jeans dropped down, seeing his hard bulge absolutely leaking his shorts full. It was truly a miracle how he didn’t already cum in his pants while fingering you.

The bed weighted down as you felt him get on top of you, putting the pillow away from you and looking at you like a little puppy.

“Hi.” You squeaked.

“Hi, baby. Already getting tired on me?”

You shook your head. “No, jus’ feel good”

He chuckles at that, kissing all over your face and peking your lips.

“Now you gonna feel even better, honey.” you looked down seeing his huge cock out, angry leaking tip, twitching and releasing pre cum all over. His tip was huge and the rest of it girthy and big, and on the end there was his salt and pepper bush, covering him all over.

“S’huge” your worried eyes found him as he slowly started to jerk off his cock, squeezing the tip lightly making it ooze some precum out.

“Yea, that’s why. I told ya.”

Your cunt was begging for him to finally fuck you, but you were still worried that it might hurt you.

“Gonna take care of you, don’t worry baby. S’okey.”

His reassuring words made you feel safe, warm and bubbly, you loved his soft side. His mean side was hot but this side you preferred more. You gently run your head through his curls, tugging him for a kiss. He hummed into the kiss, deepening it, his cock slowly starting to stretch you out.

“When you want us to stop baby—fuck. Ya just scream red, s’ that clear?”

“I scream red, yes.” You repeated him just like he told you, earning a kiss on your forehead for that and a little good girl.

At first it was a slight stretch and sting that made you mewl into his lips, but he hushed you, slowly feeding his cock into you, slightly pulling out and doing the same again.

You pulled away from his lips with a cry, tears starting to form in your eyes as he gently held your left cheek, whispering sweet nothings, looking into your eyes. His other hand coming on your little button, swollen from the previous releases, he starts to rub you gently.

Your whimpers turn into little moans as you clench down on his cock that’s only is halfway in there.

“Doing so well, honey.” He whispered “so so well.” and that with another rub on your clit was all it took for you to come on his cock again. This was the most powerful one. Your whole body shook as you buried your head into the pillows on top of you and joel making holding you close to him, as you ride out your orgasm. He grunts, trying not to cum with you clenching down on his dick hard.

Joel takes the chance to fully insert himself into you while you were still dealing with the climax, face still buried in the pillow, the moans filling the room, he loved every second of it. Turned you into a crying mess. Daddydaddydaddy you whimpered into out, his eyes widened, a deep growl coming from him, his cock in you throbbing with need.

He felt absolutely feral, he didn’t give you time to adjust you on his cock and placed his hands on your waist, slowly but surely thrusting in and out of you, your gushing heat perfectly hugging him and the lots of cum you already released mixing perfectly with his pre cum, making it easier to just hold you and fuck into you.

This is what you needed. You were always imagining this scenario in your head whenever you got off, imagining him taking care of you, handling you and making you feel safe in his arms.

“Was right with stretching you out huh? Look how easy you are taking this cock in you, baby.”

He held your neck, pulling you away from the pillows, making you slightly sit up and watch how his shaft is disappearing completely in and out. You whined, legs shaking as you tried to escape from his grip so you could burrow your face into the pillow again, but he didn’t let you.

“Nuh uh, watch how i’m fucking ya.” He growled, his hips never slowing down on you, your cunt feeling too good, too tight. He never wanted to stop.

“Always with the tears. Just crumbling all over daddy’s dick. S’what you are good for, dumb little girl like you”

So he kept fucking you.

In and out, In and out.

The matress underneath you completely soaked with your mess, one of his hands patiently rubbing your clit while the other one wiping your tears away. His lips always grazed yours, placing kisses all over your neck, suckling, knowing you are going to be all bruised up tomorrow.

“Please—gonna—daddy.” you cried out, his cock leaving your pussy as you squirted into his torso, your body shaking, legs going numb and your face completely sobbing.

“Fuck, angel. Keep going baby.” He kept rubbing at your little nub, while you released gush after gush, your body completely exhausted at this point, going limb on the mattress. It was unbelievable, you never squirted before and it felt like heaven came down on you. The pleasure was unbearable at this point, your cunt completely overstimulated, swollen and red. You looked up to him, breathing heavily you saw him jerking off his cock, dangerously close to your pussy. He wasn’t going to fuck you one more time right?

“S’too much”

“Y’know what to say, when it’s really too much.” He sternly told you, holding his hand on your chin making you look into his eyes. You nodded, mouth dry not having the energy to repeated anything right now. Luckily he accepted that.

Your body completely bucked and shook as you felt his cock entering you once more. Your fists tried to fight him off, but there was no use. He began thrusting again, he held your face in his hands and just stroked the tears away.

“Shh sh. None of that. C’mon now, with daddy. One more.”

He fucked you absolutely without slowing down. Your throat was hurting at how much you were sobbing and pleading him no. But he wasn’t letting up.

“What if I fill ya up hm? Make this belly full.”

You shook your head, eyes widening as he chuckled.

“People—the people are gonna talk. Would kill you”

“Yeah baby? They would kill me? For filling you up, making you a mama? What if we test that theory out hm?”

You couldn’t help but clench, his smugness turning you on, the way he insisted doing whatever he pleases, your mind going to the morning after pill you still had in one of your drawers. The relief washing over you, as you buried your face into his neck, feeling his thrusts getting messier and messier.

Your nipples were rubbed raw on his shirt, your hands tugging at his curls, his lips attaching them on your neck. He was growling and moaning into your ear, you’ve never heard something hotter.

“S’that what you wanted? Old man fucking you, filling you up, making you his hm? Taking care of you. Just like the little pillow princess she is” your hips bucked up to him, matching his thrusts, you were close.

“Please— s’what I wanted uh huh, yes” you nodded your head quickly, feeling his lips forming a smile on your neck.

His thrusts grew sloppier and sloppier and as you felt his muscles clench and one of his hand sneaking down, starting to rub at your poor sensitive clit again.

“C’mon with me, baby. One last time, cum for daddy angel.”

This one was more soft and more loving than the other ones because you guys came together, you clenched down on his dick while he released in you, filling you up.

He grunted into your ear while slowly and surely he was done, his cock growing soft in you. You kissed him on the cheek, making him look up to you. His face was exhausted pretty brown eyes droopy and lips were swollen. Now he was the one who truly looked fucked out. He smiled to you, feeling tiredness overcome him as he softly buried his face into your neck and closed his eyes. You stroked his curls, his back making him hum. And then you heard snoring coming, knowing he fell asleep.

“Poor old man.” You closed your eyes too, satisfied.

That was A LOT. I hope this somehow makes up for tomorrow’s episode (i’m not ready). Again, feedback is gladly appreciated, i’m still new to writing. i’m so happy that lots of people liked the first part and now I have almost 200 followers which is crazy! 😭🤭

Thank you for all the people reading and especially for the people who wanted a pt. 2! @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @iamsherlocked-1998 @viicwz @jasminedragoon @pedroswife69

[velvetvexations]

Good morning. Random take for today: there should be more autoimmune disease awareness within the trans community.

Not for the sake of fearmongering obvi but like. I developed an autoimmune after abruptly stopping T (causing my E levels to spike, which some autoimmunes apparently love) and it’s kinda striking how many trans women I’ve seen around community spaces for those with the same disease. There are trans men & enbys around too but the only actual studies I could find on my disease & transgender patients were pertaining to trans women and idk it’s just interesting, one of the “solutions” to lessening symptoms was downright mortifying and I just. Really wish it weren’t widely considered a TERF dogwhistle to talk about having a disease that reacts to hormones 😭 because disabled trans people desperately need to be uplifted. Like talking about our issues is the only way to bring attention to them and if we can do that maybe someone will finally figure out a treatment that helps sick trans people without forcibly detransitioning them!! Why the fuck should we care about the opinions of TERFs when trans people are dying! But every trans person w this disease that I’ve spoken to personally tends to keep to themselves about it for fear of handing ammo to transmisogynist pieces of shit who could turn around and fire it off at young trans women to keep them from transitioning. And I can’t say I really blame them, I do the same. We’re all so defeated because most of us were either forced to detransition (an attempt to put the disease into remission) or carry on as normal (only to get sicker because nobody cares to find a solution beyond detransition) & expected never to complain or actually be ill. The invisibility & general lack of research/treatment options is made even worse since this specific illness is more common in black and/or indigenous populations so in turn it’s black + ndn trans people suffering for it, namely black trans women from the studies I’ve seen.

I just wish that we weren’t made to feel like skeletons in the closet of the trans community. And it feels exceptionally shitty to see posts like “I hope XYZ gender trans people get cancer and die” because that is the reality for some of us. More than people who haven’t been there probably assume. And those kinds of posts don’t hurt anybody like they do us.

I don't know anything about this so I'm putting it in #I just work here. Corrections are welcome.

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

standing in the steps of mine

how spencer deals with the fact that his daughter might be getting bullied at school

fluff word count: 1421 warnings & tags & stuff: dad!spence, references to spencer's bullying, references to spencer's dad leaving, its verryy comforting, they celebrate father's day on a friday WHOOPS my bad, umm just spencer being the best dad ever author's note: WOAH its been a long time!! sorry about that i went a little crazy about this app. i missed posting on here very very much and am still working on my self esteem when it comes to posting. so. this is terrifying. anywayyy i hope you enjoy, let me know your thoughts if you have any! i love you and have a stellar day!!

“I did it wrong, I can’t give it to you.” 

This is, unfortunately, the first full sentence Anne has said since coming home from school, if you don’t count her little mhms and mm-mms tainted with a premature edge of sass Spencer claims to be all you.

Now, sitting on her newly acquired big-girl bed, Anne’s shoulders are worryingly slumped, voice meek. Her arms are hugging her backpack tightly, making sure no one except her can open it to see its contents, which– as you know from her contrastingly excited rambles during the car ride to school– include a Father’s Day craft made during her snack time just for Spencer.

“What do you mean, wrong, honey? Can we see?” Spencer asks her, crouching down to her eye level, thumb stroking her knee. After just a few seconds of trying to combat his imploring gaze, apparently just as effective on kids, she relents, unzipping her sparkly bag and taking out the slightly wrinkled paper. 

Her body language can only be read as small as she hands it to him, shy.

Right in the middle is a large, carefully drawn, and only slightly lopsided, plum purple heart. Inside, four names are written in black marker. Daddy, (the biggest, it is his day after all) Mommy, Slinky, (paired with a drawing of your cat) and Mrs. Agnes. (Stuffed unicorn.) 

Spencer utterly melts when he sees it, and looks her in the eye. “Anne, honeybear, this is perfect. Thank you so much. Can you tell me what about this you think is wrong?” You crouch too as he says that, rubbing her back.

She purses her trembling lips. “Ben said it was s’posed to be red since love is red, and that purple is dumb.” Spencer tilts his head.

“Well, lots of people do think love is red, but I bet it can be other colors too. In many countries east of here, orange can show love. Or, when you see blue, your brain tends to think of things associated with safety and trust. Trust is a kind of love, right?” Spencer explains. Anne nods hesitantly. “It doesn’t have to be red. He shouldn’t have called it dumb.”

“What do you feel when you see purple?” you ask, showing her the heart again.

“Um. Calm. And family. Since Daddy’s favorite color is purple,” she sniffles. “And the scarf you always make fun of him for wearing before you kiss g’bye in the mornings, an’ Mrs. A-agnes.” A fat tear drops down her face, and she shrugs. “I didn’t know. It should’ve been red. I just messed it all up.”

Spencer reassesses, thumb reaching out to wipe away the tear. It’s typical of Anne to have some self-esteem issues, sure, but they’d never not gone away with some reassurance. This is different. 

That’s when it hits him.

This isn’t just the body language of a sad kid. It’s the body language of a kid being teased. Her tucked in shoulders, short replies, breathing patterns, it’s so clear to him. Spencer’s mind reels, taken aback at just how long it took him to recognise this. In his own child. Her bow lips are pressed into the same exact guilty line his were at her age too. The same line he bore when his father had something to say, and when he was shoved against the goalpost in highschool, and when he was ostracised by his peers in college. 

He stills the stroking against her knee. “Anne, do you know Ben’s last name?” His voice is thin, wavery. 

“Umm, G.” 

He exhales a breath. “What about his full last name? Do you know that?” he presses. When she gives him a confused look, you interject.

“That’s okay, honey. Hey, do you wanna go hang this up on the fridge? I think Slinky needs some food too, do you wanna be in charge of that tonight? One and a half scoops, okay?”

She nods, momentarily distracted from thoughts of Ben G. and instead tottles off to do her favorite chore, despite her sadness.

Spencer looks at you the second she’s out. “I think she’s getting bullied.”

“We don’t know that for sure, Spencer,” you reason softly. “She hasn’t told us enough.” He ignores you, shaky hands digging in his pockets for his phone.

“I am not taking that risk. Garcia can find this…” he sputters. “Twerp.”

“Spencer, you are not seriously getting the FBI involved. I don’t care if it’s our child’s godmother.” 

“It’s Anne.” He spins and looks at you, eyes intense. “I’m not fucking this up. I’m not.” 

“I know it’s Anne. God, Spence, I know. Just let me call her teacher first. I don’t want an angry parent coming for us because we accused their son of bullying and got the federal authorities involved before they even knew what was going on. Okay?”

The panic behind his eyes softens a little. 

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he rasps out. You extend your arms for a little hug, which he sinks into. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner.”

“It’s okay. She’s really good at covering it up. We’ll just… see if we can make her feel better for now and get more information out of her later?” He nods into your neck, knowing the two of you can, at the very least, do that. 

He presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “Stop one-upping me on Father’s day. How’re you so calm?” 

You exhale a soft laugh. “I really don’t know. How do you wanna make her feel better, though?”

…

He comes out to the kitchen to see her staring at her drawing, obviously still hesitant to hang it up. She stands next to Slinky as he eats, making sure he has company, of course, but her eyes don’t lift from her paper.

“Hey honey? I don’t think I properly thanked you for this. May I?” Spencer asks her quietly. She hands the paper over reluctantly, and he hangs it up, then swoops her into his arms so they’re eye to eye. “I can’t believe you remembered Daddy’s favorite color.” he tells her, voice full of sincerity. “You know how full that makes my heart?”

She shrugs, tucking her head into his neck.

“This tells me just how much you love me and our whole family. This is the best Father’s day gift I’ve ever received. You’re considerate. Do you know what that means?” she peeks out at Spencer, and sees his light eyes looking down at her. 

She, very gently, shakes her head no, lips twitching out of that thin line and into a giddy smile. She’s a blur the second he sets her down, zooming all the way to the tall bookshelf next to the fireplace. 

…

Resting on the bottom, easily accessible, are two halves of the Compact Oxford English Dictionary, each practically half the size of her. She pauses, remembering the word Spencer told her, and selects the first one. A through O. She lifts it with a little huff of effort and runs right back, nestling herself on the couch right next to you, where you’re strategically waiting with a blanket and cuddles. She peeks up at you subtly for confirmation she grabbed the right dictionary, and you give her a little nod. 

“What letter are we looking for, little bear?” you ask, hand moving to her hair to stroke. Spencer comes and sits on the other side of her, having gone to wash his face.

“C.” She says definitively, flipping through the thin pages. She skims quickly and methodically, a procedure no doubt inherited from her father. 

You’re all quiet, air filled with the soft sounds of paper flipping. It’s peaceful, despite the stress you know Spencer is still feeling. You reach for his hand, pointer gently tracing to his pulse point. Much slower than it was a few minutes ago. 

Support, reassurance, distraction. It’s really simple. It took him, what, a minute to figure it out? How to make her feel the slightest bit better?

A fucking minute.

He blinks the thought from his brain, ignores the jabbing in his heart, and focuses instead on looking at his two girls and how the light from the lamp catches the color of your hair. Anne soon falls asleep against you two late that night after finally finding considerate, and you bring her to her big-girl bed, the little scrunch between her eyebrows that she shares with Spencer nowhere to be seen. 

[mxrcurysb1tch]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Astrology observations part IX ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

☆ Hey guys! Long awaited post ik ik I hope you’re all jumping up and down and kicking your feet right now. I’m gonna label this one as intermediate astrology just so no one gets confused lol. As usual take what resonates and leave the rest! Enjoy!

☆ Family members often have similar placements especially moon signs. This makes so much sense as siblings usually grow up with the same parenting styles and look physically similar too. In fact, I know one family where the two older siblings are both Pisces moons with Scorpio risings, the younger brother is a Scorpio moon and their mother is a Scorpio sun!

☆ Leo in the 10h (Scorpio rising) want to be known for their careers / working as they take a lot of pride in their work ethic and make great leaders. These are the people who take work extremely seriously and always pick up extra shifts and go the extra mile. This is especially apparent if they also have personal planets up there too.

☆ The ruling planet of your ascendant and more specifically the sign and house tends to tell just as much, if not more about a person than their rising sign alone. Of course this doesn’t diminish the rising sign’s effects, it just combines with them. If it’s a particularly strong / ‘well placed’ planet and in a strong aspect to the ascendant, this effect will be even more pronounced. For example, someone I know is a Scorpio rising but their Mars (one of scorpio’s ruling planets) is in Leo in the 10th house, and their “Leo-ness’ is so apparent. It’s funny too because before I knew their birth time I always guessed them as an Aries rising and now I see this was because of the Mars (Scorpio) and the fire (Leo) influence on their rising and I could not separate the two!!

☆ I have to say, everyone is SLEEPING on Taurus placements. Don’t let their unassuming exteriors FOOL YOU. That is the first mistake. I mean cmon Taurus is literally the sister sign of Scorpio for a reason. Taurus placement’s observational skills are ON POINT. They pick up on everything. And yes, just like Scorpio they do have that mean streak.

☆ Now, don’t get me wrong, I love Gemini moons but I noticed one thing about them. They could be head over heels in love with someone and YET still be hooking up / talking to other people. They aren’t the type to waste time while they’re holding out for that one person. It’s not even that they catch feelings for multiple people at once, just that they like to be entertained and if they aren’t getting that from their crush they will look elsewhere no matter how enamoured they may be. We all know Gemini placements have just a bit of a wandering eye (shameless self roasting here guys lol) and Gemini moons are definitely no exception!

☆ Capricorn placements will just sit there with such intense emotions and just do and say absolutely nothing about it or they’ll try to rationalise it away. If you’ve ever seen two people with significant cap placements in love, it can actually be quite awkward.

☆ Their moon in your 1h in synastry can feel like being so in tune with their feelings and noticing small things about them that others wouldn’t pick up on, like the subtle changes in their mood. Maybe you can’t read their mind but you can definitely feel into their emotions. They might trust you deeply without knowing why, it’s just a natural thing because you just understand them.

[reidrum]

like i would | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,

summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged

wc: 4.5k

_____________

you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.

spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows. 

it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.

so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.

apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy. 

spencer doesn’t buy it.

he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’

it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.

the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.

the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.

“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”

“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.

“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.

“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”

emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”

“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.

“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”

“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.

spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?

—

spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.

he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.

“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”

he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”

you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.

he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.

“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.

“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.

spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).

but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.

not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.

so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”

you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”

“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”

pulling away to sit far from him on the couch,  you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”

“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”

“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”

he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”

“what’s what spence, let me go.”

“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.

“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.

“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”

any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.

your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.

the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.

“i heard you, on the jet.”

you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point. 

he heard you?

“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.

the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?

the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.

“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”

his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.

“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.

your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”

the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.

“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”

your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.

“no.”

spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”

“no.” you say again, softer this time.

“should we change that?”

this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.

so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.

he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.

“yes.”

that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.

you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.

he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.

detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“

“please don’t stop.”

he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.

the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.

“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”

spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.

“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.

you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.

“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.

his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”

“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.

he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.

“oh fuck,” you cry.

“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.

you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.

“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”

“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.

the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.

he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.

the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.

his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.

he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.

spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.

“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.

“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.

you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.

he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured. 

it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.

your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.

your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere. 

spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.

you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.

“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”

“but…” you pathetically respond.

“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”

the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.

“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”

you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.

holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.

his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”

you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.

his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.

you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.

if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.

once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.

you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.

the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.

but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.

“spence…harder.”

he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.

“whatever you say, princess.”

and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.

“fuck,” you whine.

“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”

your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.

“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”

you whimper, “spencer,”

“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”

he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.

“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”

spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.

in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”

still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”

he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”

you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”

“me?” he says incredulously.

you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”

he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”

you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”

“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”

“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”

“just tell him i have a gun.”

“so does he?”

“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”